


Storms Gather (And Collide)

by SheWhoWalksUnseen



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, Coldflash Valentine's Day Exchange 2019, Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells Being an Asshole, Fairy Tale Curses, Lewis Snart Being an Asshole, M/M, Mentions of Background Ships and Characters, Temporary Character Death, Though he is only mentioned in flashback/reference, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-22 16:26:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWhoWalksUnseen/pseuds/SheWhoWalksUnseen
Summary: Leonard Snart would die by the first snow of winter.Or, he would have, had it not been for the abandoned estate in the middle of the forest nor its reticent owner who bore secrets of his own - and a curse not unlike Leonard's.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady Divine Coldflash (fhartz91)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/gifts).



> Shocking, I know, a fairytale au from _me_. However, I couldn't get your prompt of _Beauty and the Beast au_ out of my head and figure out how to make this a one-shot that was short so the plotline devolved. Again.
> 
> While I love fairytales, I'm not a fan of retellings of the Disney movies with the same exact script. Hence...Well, you'll see. 
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day, and I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> (Props to _infiniteeight_ for beta-ing this mess - and _nateheywood_ for offering endless encouragement when I wanted to throw my laptop out the window. I owe you both the world.)

Leonard Snart was dying.

Lisa would have cursed to hear him say such a thing, would have refused to listen to reason until he admitted otherwise, but it was the simplest way of putting the truth.

Leonard would die by the first snow of winter.

Another fact that Lisa would try and deny, though he could see the glint of fear in her eyes whenever the subject arose. She had roped Mick into hunting down healers, physicians, even nearby witches in hopes of discovering a remedy.

Not that there would be one. There couldn’t be.

By now the whole town knew what had happened, what had become of Lewis Snart in the aftermath of the robbery gone wrong and the guards raising the alarm and the chase through the streets that nearly led Mick to carry Leonard as his legs went numb and his chest _throbbed_ like someone had taken a stake and shoved it through his heart and it _burned_.

It wasn’t as if Leonard had hidden the body, hadn’t bothered even when Lisa stared at him for a few days with that uncertain look she’d only worn for their father in his foulest moods.

She could have been concerned for his foolishness and his health, of course. It would’ve been more plausible, actually, given that neither of them had seen the curse coming.

They should have. Mick had been learning elemental magic for years and always encouraged them both to look for the signs, for any indication of a curse or backfiring spell. Those were the trickiest, he’d said with a dark shadow crossing his face, the ones you never saw until they hit you square in the heart and consumed you from the inside out.

Leonard, who prided himself on overestimating his father and knowing the old man was too sloppy to deal with back-up plans himself, hadn’t recognized the signs until he’d stabbed his father through the chest, iron blade sliding in in one clean strike, and his own insides answered the action like a rough, but passing, stomach ache.

He should’ve remembered Lewis’ dealings with magic, the fact that his father was vicious and spiteful, and that while he may never have dreamed of his son gaining the courage to finally end his life, he certainly had been prepared for a backstabbing of the most literal kind.

But Leonard hadn’t. He hadn’t remembered.

And now Leonard was slung over Lisa’s horse, his fingers almost blue with both how tight he held the reins and how much his hands shook in the growing chill of winter. It was all he could do to hold on, listening to his sister and Mick argue as they led the mare through the sudden storm.

Funny. He’d walked these paths dozens of times in the forest, and yet he’d never wandered far enough for winter to come early.

He had been in and out of consciousness for a full day, barely registering anything aside from Mick’s surprisingly gentle grasp on his forearms and the dull slap of Lisa’s hand against his numbed cheek when he started to slip away and she got truly desperate. Leonard knew she called his name occasionally - more than occasionally, if he was honest, though he doubted he remembered most of her pleas - but it hurt too much to answer.

“We can’t keep wandering out here.” Definitely his sister’s voice, though the undercurrent of worry was unlike her. “It’s not yet November, where did this storm come from?”

“Magic,” Mick muttered, barely audible over the howl of the wind. “Has to be.”

“Can you fend it off?”

Mick grunted, a clear _no_. While he made it no secret that he found his gift for fire fascinating, Mick bore difficulty controlling the flames. The last thing they wanted was to set Leonard on fire.

Though, he couldn’t say he would mind too much. It wouldn’t be very different from the burning spreading through his bones right now.

“Can you warm him up?”

“No more than I already have.”

“Well, we don’t have time to stop for the night. It’s impossible to see anything in this storm and Lenny...” Lisa paused, perhaps glancing back despite the fact that she couldn’t see any better than he could. His eyelids ached the more he kept them open. It was easier to listen through the wind and the darkness, gather what he could about their surroundings. “He doesn’t have much time.”

“Don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I _know_ , but - ” Another pause, this one more pregnant than the last. Leonard had to bite his cheek, not that it did much good, to keep himself from drifting off again. “Wait… Do you see...”

As if on cue, a resounding howl, far more guttural than the storm raging around them, echoed in the night and Leonard’s hairs stood straight on his arms.

Of course. What was a harrowing journey through a blizzard in the middle of the night in a forest without wolves?

Mick swore and urged Lisa to run as Leonard’s mare jerked forward. He struggled to grip the reins harder, but his fingers cried out the more he tried to close them. He could hear footsteps in the snow ahead of them, fast and light like he’d always taught Lisa to move. If he were any less a shivering mess, he would’ve spared a second for pride.

“Hold on, boss,” Mick growled even as their pace picked up and the horse neighed, clearly upset over something. “Almost there.”

Leonard doubted that was true - hadn’t they just said there was no shelter in sight? And they all knew he wouldn’t last the night, not in his condition.

Damn Lewis to hell. He’d have a hearty laugh if he could see them now, struggling for survival long after he’d gotten what he deserved.

The wolves were nearing; Leonard could hear their howls, louder now, and the impatient tugs from Mick at the reins said all he needed to know. He wasn’t sure why the mare was fighting their efforts, bucking so hard Leonard would have slipped off had his grip not been ironclad on the mane.

Or maybe it was the wolves themselves, already there and frightening the mare.

Lisa called to them from a distance, something he wondered if he imagined as relief, and Leonard could not tell what Mick’s reply was, nor what she was encouraging them towards, as he returned to a restless state of unconsciousness.

 

***

 

The creature was upstairs when he heard the entrance hall doors slam open.

The sound was so unnatural after years of isolation that he almost wrote it off as his imagination, that the spark of hope long since extinguished flared back to life. Not for himself, he’d long since given up on salvation for his own selfish reasons, but for his friends. If he could still call them his friends after all this time.

Keeping people prisoner, even unintentionally, while they lived out the rest of their days as copper, wood and stone was a cruel punishment, and one he wouldn’t have dreamed of setting upon anyone.

Then the doors slammed shut with the grunt of someone very real, likely battling the winter winds outside to keep them closed, and his chest tightened.

 _The first time in two years_ , hissed the traitorous voice in the back of his mind. It sounded far too much like Cisco and Iris. _Someone new, a new chance._

 _A new chance to hold more innocent people hostage, of course_ , he sneered back, and that seemed to quieten the burst of confidence.

He was tempted to ignore the hushed voices and uneven footsteps - were they dragging something through his drawing room, what could possibly -

The doors to his own chambers flew open and he fought the urge to stiffen and snap at the intruder. Then the clank of metal came, a familiar noise he recognized, and he relaxed, closing his eyes to let out a huff of exasperation.

“I thought I told you to knock.”

A heavy sigh filled the room, so dramatic it almost made him chuckle. Clearly rehearsed - there was no way it was contrite, not when he’d heard the same sigh over and over for years alongside assorted grumbles of _when will you stop pulling these damned stitches?_

“How rude. And here I thought our lifelong friendship meant something to you.”

His lips twitched. “ _Cisco_.”

“Truly, I’m wounded.”

“I don’t doubt that, but will you get on with whatever you came in to say?”

The clanking came to an abrupt halt and he didn’t turn around. Selfish as he was, he hated seeing his friend like this.

Hated being reminded of what he had done to cause so much heartache and strife throughout the estate and everyone who never meant to set foot in it.

“We have guests.”

“So I heard.”

“Are you not the least bit curious?”

 _Yes,_ whispered that defiant voice.

“No.”

Cisco hopped forward again and this time he couldn’t help but glance down to meet the candelabra’s golden face as it scowled up at him. He must have been learned it from Iris. “That is a bold-faced lie, my friend.”

“Leave me be, and shoo our guests out of the estate.”

“Scare them away? But they only just arrived!”

“And we both know what will happen if they _stay_.”

That quieted Cisco, a sobering reminder that he wanted to regret, but true to form, the candelabra merely hopped around in front of him further. He crossed his candles as if they were arms and the scowl deepened.

Somewhere downstairs, he heard the conversation grow louder, less wary of the seemingly empty estate. Irritation rose and sparked like the start of a wildfire within him.

“They have nowhere to go for the night. At least let them stay an hour.”

He scoffed and turned his head away. “By then it will be too late.”

“One of them looks wounded.” He hesitated, a mistake that cost him as Cisco seized the opportunity and leapt closer. “Or ill, I couldn’t tell. But he needs a healer.”

“We have none here.”

“Caitlin still knows - ”

“She is a _clock_.”

“That doesn’t mean she cannot help them,” Cisco shot back. He once had admired Cisco’s tenacity, how he never toed the line when it came to pushing his friends but continued to urge them onto a better path. Or, the path that _he_ deemed a better one.

Now it merely incensed him, and he spun around, stalking toward the doors just to have an excuse not to look at the candelabra.

“We can’t ignore their plight. They are our _guests_.”

“They are trespassers,” he snarled. “They pose a threat to both their own sakes and ours. Better we do them the kindness of learning to run from a haunted estate rather than risk them joining us.”

Cisco made a strangled sound somewhere between a groan and a bitter laugh. “You can’t be serious - ”

“You are not to fetch Caitlin, is that understood?”

“Well, she and Iris already went down there, so I don’t think - ”

He spun on Cisco with a snarl. “They _what_?”

“Just to investigate, perhaps welcome them in from the cold since we have _injured_ guests.”

“They are not _guests_. Do you not remember where you are?”

“The least we can do is offer them a place to stay the night!”

“They’d have a better chance of braving the storm.”

“I think it’s far too late for - wait, _don’t_ \- ”

He was already out of the room by the time Cisco called out for him.

 

***

 

Voices faded in and out, some hazier than others, and Leonard wanted to groan as something that sounded like a rough slamming echoed throughout -

Where were they? In the forest, yes, they were in the woods, they were -

“Should be fine for the night,” someone muttered and he realized in the midst of a violent shiver that it wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been before. There was little to no wind now, at the very least, which solved the issue of the chill for the moment.

Not that his bones had gotten the message. Everything still ached and throbbed, and he couldn’t bend his limbs even if he wanted to. Whoever was holding him - an embarrassing realization that was coming to him very, very slowly; since when was he weak enough to necessitate being carried like an infant? - seemed to be shaking, as if they were still frozen as well.

Which was impossible, thankfully.

He heard someone speaking, though the chest he was being held against wasn’t moving, and attempted to turn his head toward the sound. All the effort earned him was a hiss and a crick in his neck as rigidity claimed a fierce hold on his muscles.

Muted terror clung to his chest like sandbags, dragging him down to the depths of the earth. Touch was a laughable concept, not when his fingers and toes were beyond numb and the act of simply stretching only wrought a slight twitch, if even that. Every breath was a punch to the chest, a tight squeeze of his lungs that he couldn’t control while he tried to breathe at a steady pace.

“So quiet,” someone said, louder than the voice he swore he heard before. There was a slight echo - maybe there was a hall or a tunnel?

It didn’t make much sense, though. Where would they have found an estate in the middle of the forest?

 _Someone who loves the outdoors, mayhap_ , he thought to himself, and a strangled laugh clawed its way up his throat. Who would build a place like this? They were far from town, far enough that it would take nearly a full afternoon to reach any sign of civilization even on a clear day.

A dreadful roar shook Leonard’s world, thunder in every sense of the word rolling throughout his hazy mind and he found himself half-forming a wince as the person who had gathered him in their arms jolted backwards. He couldn’t see where he was, or what was happening, but it was warmer in here than it was outside in the storm and that was all that mattered.

Or were they still out in the storm and he was dreaming?

The person holding him deposited him onto something less abrasive, more cushioned, and tiny whispers reached his ears. He got the sense they weren’t from Lisa or Mick.

Were Lisa and Mick still there? They wouldn’t abandon him, never, Lisa would rather be buried in the snow and left to the wolves herself than leave -

“Oh, dear,” came a whisper to his left along with a whirr similar to cogs in a machine.

“What was that?” He wanted to breathe a sigh of relief despite the uncertainty in Lisa’s voice. Someone shifted away from him, brushing his leg as they did so, and Leonard urged himself further toward consciousness, fighting to open his eyes. “Is someone there?”

“Not someone,” Mick said, quieter than Leonard had ever heard him before. “That was some kind of animal.”

“That, yes, but I meant - ”

Another roar came and Leonard shuddered as a pair of doors hit the wall upstairs, followed by footsteps thundering down a staircase. He couldn’t quell a growing, gnawing trepidation in his gut. Gasps from several small voices that he was certain now could not be Mick or Lisa rose around him. There was a metallic clinking across the floor, and Lisa whispered something he could not hear to Mick, her tone urgent.

A _thump_ struck the floor not too far from wherever they were and Leonard shifted, struggling as his eyes started to flutter, not warmed yet after the blizzard. The tell-tale sound of Mick murmuring an incantation, summoning his fire, reached Leonard’s ears.

Lisa gasped, loud and unrestrained and someone stumbled back, accidentally running into his foot. Leonard grimaced, but the dull pain was enough to jolt his body and he pushed to open his eyes against the darkness of the room.

“ _Who are you?_ ” He didn’t recognize the voice, resonating at such a deep timbre with a strange hiss that it almost sounded like the stranger was part serpent. A comical image, yet every nerve in Leonard’s body, somewhat numbed by the previous chill, lit up with red flags. “ _Why have you come here?_ ”

“The storm outside pushed us into seeking shelter. We mean you no harm, I assure you.” Despite the initial waver in her tone, Lisa’s voice was steady, as if she were confronting Hartley for eating her favorite tarts rather than facing down…

Whatever or whomever they were speaking to.

Which reminded Leonard that he ought to be paying attention. He attempted to push himself onto his elbows, trying to take in the situation, but he could still only make out a darkened room with Mick and Lisa’s backs to him, a ball of fire sparking in the palm of Mick’s hand. There was a fireplace against the wall across from him, dust and cobwebs lining the opening, but aside from the gleam on frames of what he guessed were paintings, there was little else of value in the room. Something moved in the darkness by him and the red couch he was propped on, glinting in the shadows, but whatever it was remained out of sight.

He also could not see whom or what his sister was speaking to. Leonard gritted his teeth as his limbs refused to allow him to stretch more than an inch or so up against the armrest closest to him, peering into the darkness.

Wait, no - _there_ , he spotted an inhuman figure not fifteen feet from his sister, staring them down with startling yellow eyes that seemed to glow. It was impossible to tell how big the body was, whether it was a monstrous beast or merely a man, but there were little flickers in the shadows that resembled light, almost jumping off the stranger.

“ _That is of no importance. You are trespassing. I have no quarrel with you, but I ask you to leave._ ”

Lisa scoffed and Leonard tensed at the same moment Mick did. An offended Lisa was not one they needed right now, not when facing the host of this strange place they’d brought him to. “No quarrel? And yet you made that _racket_ and leapt downstairs as if all hell was at your door.”

“ _You were the ones who broke in._ ”

“It was unlocked, as was your gate! Honestly, if you expect - ”

A bestial growl filled the air and Lisa’s jaw snapped shut. Leonard nearly fell off his elbow as he got into a stable position on the armrest.

“ _This is the final time I will ask. Leave now, or I will be forced to act._ ”

“He’s hurt.” To Leonard’s surprise, it was Mick who spoke up, fire still spitting between his fingers. Leonard was grateful for the heat and wondered if Mick had done so not only for light but for Leonard’s benefit as well. “Storm was making things worse. Not like we’ll be able to go anywhere for a while.”

Those yellow eyes pulsed in the shadows and Leonard now noticed the utter lack of pupils with a churning unease that swam amongst what was left of his chilled insides. His own drooping stare met the stranger’s head-on and he forced himself to incline his chin despite the pitiful state of the rest of his limbs.

More flickers sprang to life in the shadows covering the stranger’s body and Leonard realized they were not glimmers of light off belt buckles or jewelry, as had been his first assumption, but part of the stranger himself. Curiosity took hold as he strained up, willing his legs to move the smallest increment so he could be raised higher on the couch.

He swore he saw a mouth move, maybe smirking or smiling, and anger replaced intrigue in tenfold. How dare this man mock him?

“ _He seems tired, not wounded. There are other establishments made for rest_ ,” the stranger said, and yes, there was a definite note of amusement to the condescending tone now. “ _I see no need for him to take shelter here_.”

Lisa stepped forward and Leonard caught a glimpse of the same unbridled ire written across her face. “Have you no heart? He will _die_ if we go back out there. What kind of monster are you?”

The stranger’s tone turned stony. “ _My mind has been made up. You will not change it._ ”

Lisa made to move once more, perhaps to charge or snap more vitriol at the master of this strange, dark place, but Leonard’s limbs decided to work for an instant and he managed to snag her sleeve before she could dig herself a deeper grave. She spun back to him, eyes widening, proving she hadn’t thought him awake, and he shook his head when she tried to remove his hand - or take it, he supposed.

“It’s alright, Lisa,” his voice came out unusually gravelly and it took a moment for him to swallow, having not spoken for most of the day. He kept his voice loud enough for the stranger to hear his words but did not face the shadowy figure. “Anyone cowardly enough not to show his face in his own home doesn’t deserve the right to protest.”

It sounded like Mick stifled a snort next to him, though it could’ve been one of those whispering voices he’d heard, if he was still of sound mind, but the replying hiss from the stranger was all he cared about. “ _Strong words for someone who cannot raise his own head properly_.”

Leonard gave him his best caustic smirk. “Says the one who deemed me fit for rest and not a healer.”

Lisa latched onto his hand as the yellow eyes hovered closer and more pulses of light leapt off the stranger’s - skin? Clothes? If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought those flickers of light were fire similar to Mick’s magic.

“What are you?” Leonard asked, feeling bold even in his weakened state, his voice evened out. The stranger stopped abruptly and a rush of satisfaction swept through Leonard’s blood like the high tide. “It’s hardly fair you know us as trespassers and we cannot face the master of this _establishment_.”

“ _No one of consequence_.” Was that a hint of unease from the other he detected?

“Introductions would only be polite.” The tease slipped out, bringing an edge to his words as resentment from the earlier mockery grew within him. “Unless you’re too frightened of three travellers to dare show your face.”

Mick muttered something about making things worse, but the jibe did the trick; the stranger’s eyes flared with light, as did his form, and Leonard got another look at the yellow radiance jumping off the unseen flesh.

The permeating chill in the room was starting to seep back into his bones. Leonard shifted and he saw his sister’s lip curl, likely recognizing the movement for what it was.

“So you are a coward, then.”

The stranger growled and more light - _sparks_ , like lightning, he realized - flew forth. “ _That is not -_ ”

“Is it not so?” He nearly gnashed his teeth together as a surge of pain hit him, his limbs trembling minutely. Lisa gripped his hand tighter in her grasp as if that might cure his ailing body.

Those eyes glared at him for a long moment, unmoving in the darkness as Leonard refused to look away. _Never back away, never show your hand. Showing your hand is a weakness you can’t afford._

Of course, shaking as he was and cold to the touch, he suspected this stranger thought of him as anything but strong. He would too, if he weren’t the one suffering for his own foolishness.

Footsteps drew nearer, deceptively slow, like a predator under the cover of moonlight, and so did the eyes, which he swore were pulsing brighter in the shadows. Mick’s fire hissed louder, but the stranger paid it no mind, coming nearly two feet from the couch before halting.

Leonard raised an eyebrow and winced as a sharp pang struck him for the small movement. Still, he ground out a “Well?” as the stranger remained silent, watching him.

The glowing eyes blinked out of existence as a heavy, guttural sigh filled the room. Leonard would’ve been curious as to whether the other had vanished, much like Shawna could if channeling the right energy, but Mick’s ball of flame illuminated the outline of a man, or what should’ve been a man, exhaling and raising his arms in the near-darkness.

And then the room was at once alight and blazing with heat as the man - _no,_ this was _not_ a man, and Leonard’s stomach plummeted like a stone as even Mick drew in a quiet breath of surprise - stepped forward one last time.

At full height, Leonard would guess the creature was seven feet tall, maybe more. Wreathed in gold, he bore little resemblance to a man up close. Lightning crackled and swept off the creature’s form, forming forming some type of horns sprouting from its temples, razor-sharp points sparking alongside the genuine sparks clinging to its skin. Its arms surged and dwindled like solar flares, hands more claw-like than human , as the creature stood on lean pillars of light instead of legs. It was hard to tell what was tangible and what was not without touching for yourself, not that any of them were foolish enough to try.

The face bore those same striking yellow eyes, a lighter pigment than the rest of the electricity that made up the creature’s body, with a hint of something close to green darting in their depths. Maybe a substitute for the lack of pupils, he speculated.

There was no nose or mouth visible, but Leonard felt that he could sense wariness radiating off of the creature, all emotion relegated to the lightning licking what was meant to be skin and that unyielding stare.

The waiting, oddly enough, was what caused him to observe the sudden temperature change. Waves of heat continuously crashed forward in sharp contrast compared to the brisk chill of the room - which he could now see was a drawing room of sorts, in spite of the unused fireplace and furniture - and Leonard couldn’t help but let out a small sigh, his body crying out in joy at the unexpected warmth. Lisa started as he flexed his fingers in her grasp, just enough to test their reflexes. Even his legs didn’t feel quite so frozen anymore.

Leonard took advantage of the heat and shifted, cautiously at first then more fluidly as he moved to the edge of the couch, his feet landing on the floor with a jolt that didn’t jar him too badly. He didn’t dare attempt standing, not when the memory of the cold was at the forefront of his mind and he was still weak, but a thrill raced through him nonetheless.

Catching the creature, the strange master of this estate, tilting its head at him - though maybe this was a _he_ , given this creature had never specified - Leonard jutted his chin forward, eyes narrowing, not quite a challenge for he bore no doubts that he would be no match against the other.

“Could’ve done that ages ago,” Mick grumbled, breaking the tension as he extinguished his, admittedly laughable in comparison to the creature, ball of fire.

Said creature made a noise Leonard was sure was a snort of laughter, however sarcastic. “ _You had your heat,_ ” he pointed out, voice still a crackling and unearthly thing in the emptiness of the dark estate.

“You’re heating up,” Lisa said to Leonard, one of her hands moving to his brow now in shock. He didn’t comment on how hard her other hand now gripped his own. “You’re - You’re warm. I don’t believe it.”

“Just needed a massive walking fireplace, that’s all.” His sister must’ve been feeling double the relief he was because she didn’t swat his shoulder or even glare at him, eyes growing wider by the minute.

The lightning creature, though, didn’t appear to take kindly to the comparison and a new round of warmth and electricity swept through the room, almost too hot for Leonard’s warming skin to handle. “ _I suppose you think you are funny_.”

“Actually, that could be a compliment.”

A hissing snarl escaped the area where the creature’s mouth should’ve been and somehow grounded Leonard back in reality and sobriety. Right. Enormous beast-like being.

Probably best not to anger him.

Lisa must not have received the reminder; her hand on Leonard’s brow, which was starting to sweat for the first time in over a month, snapped back as she faced the creature, eyes shining with the same authority she tried to wield over Leonard when she was small and _needed_ him to buy her those cakes and tarts in the market.

“You see that we needed this shelter, then, do you not? Had we stayed out there a moment more my brother would have frozen to death.”

The creature’s eyes seemed to grow brighter. “ _I see nothing but a group of trespassers who dare insult me in my own abode._ ”

“For good reason, so it seems.”

“Lisa,” Leonard warned, but the creature was moving closer swifter than he could anticipate, leaning over their heads as Lisa craned her neck defiantly up at him. It was almost too close, too hot to have such a being in their space at all, let alone furious.

On the bright side, any lingering chill in his veins was long gone.

“ _Leave this place_ now _,_ ” the creature sneered, spitting sparks that landed on Leonard’s lap like fallen embers. “ _You have wasted enough of my time._ ”

The thought of going back out into the blizzard caused Leonard’s gut to clench, a preemptive despair threatening to seize him. Lisa looked just as unwilling to go, despite the wariness of Mick beside them, her jaw set as her hand in Leonard’s squeezed.

It was meant to be a reassurance, but looking at how deep Lisa was preparing to dig her heels in against a literal beast of lightning and turmoil just settled his own resolve as he tugged his hand away from hers and pushed unsteadily off the couch to his feet.

Mick and Lisa were at the ready to grab him in moments, but he waved them off, gritting his teeth as he forced his once-frozen legs to stand still at the very least. The beast’s yellow-hazel eyes stared down at him from less than a foot away, watching once more with what Leonard could only guess was thinly-veiled interest.

The thought that the other was as curious and unafraid as he was - because yes, this unknown was terrifying by description, but Leonard had dealt his whole life with unknowns and magic and now life-threatening curses, and one demonic beast was not going to rattle his nerves - was what steeled him as he gazed back. He refused to grab onto the armrest or Mick’s arm to steady himself, clearing his throat against the blinding heat of the creature’s “face”.

“What if we made a deal instead?”

There was a pregnant pause. Leonard got the sense he was being given a once-over as the creature tilted his head. “ _I don’t make deals with trespassers_.”

Leonard smirked, the first he hadn’t forced in quite some time. “Oh? And yet you seem interested.”

He got the feeling he was being scowled at. Errant sparks bounced off his shoulders as the creature shook his head. “ _You have wasted enough of my time_.”

“And we will waste no more. Leaving is our top priority, but we cannot do that with this snow storm raging on your doorstep.”

“ _That is your problem_.”

“It is.” Lisa started to stand, likely sensing where he was going with this, but the creature held out one of his clawed, fiery limbs to stop her. Leonard ignored the horrified gleam in her eyes and spread his hands, exceedingly grateful for the lack of a twinge in the movement. No more rigid limbs, for the moment. “My sister and Mick can leave, as per your request, but if I step outside, I will surely collapse.”

“ _Again, your problem_. _I cannot control your aging limbs._ ”

Leonard bit back the harsh retort on his tongue with difficulty. He could _feel_ faint smugness exuding off of the creature. “They are not aging, they are cursed.”

The creature paused and Leonard knew he had won. The anger and air of superiority were fading, and he swore those eyes seemed to be softening into more of a hazel than a stark yellow glow.

“ _Cursed._ ”

Leonard lifted his hand closer so the creature could see the sheen of ice ebbing from his hand. Not quite _melting_ so near to the heat being radiated, but just enough so that the difference was enough to reveal human flesh beneath the frozen layer. A second skin, of sorts.

“I will turn to ice the moment I walk out those doors,” Leonard said plainly. “The only thing keeping me alive and breathing right now,” and here he moved his hand closer to the creature, almost grazing the lightning jumping off the unseen skin, but the creature jerked back before they could make contact. Leonard nearly hesitated, but he lowered his hand, not wanting to startle the other as much as the reaction peaked his curiosity. “The only thing keeping me alive is this endless furnace you’re giving off.”

The lightning around the creature began to shrink, as if being drawn back inward. Leonard wondered if he was simply a being of shadow when not sparking up a storm.

“Lenny,” Lisa hissed, seeing her opening. “You can’t really mean - ”

“ _You desire to stay here._ ”

Leonard arched a brow. “Just until a countercurse is found.” How long that would be was... debatable. He didn’t believe there was one, in all honesty.

But if it meant getting Lisa and Mick out of the storm’s path and not angering this beast of light, then he was willing to take that risk. He hadn’t prepared himself for a life without a time limit, but if there was a way to delay the consequences…

Well. Leonard Snart had never claimed not to be a selfish man.

The creature glanced at Lisa, then to Mick, who looked just as displeased if not more by the conversation and ready to drag Leonard out of there himself if he had to. “ _And your friends will leave._ ”

“Like _hell_ \- ”

“Lenny, don’t - ”

“ _If you remain,_ ” the creature spat, close enough to shock both cries into silence, “ _you will become far worse than ice._ ”

“I’m willing to take that chance,” Leonard replied. He wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a threat, but he didn’t want Lisa or Mick staying long enough to find out.

The creature almost appeared impressed, if not disgruntled. A low guttural noise, not unlike a groan, escaped him and years of practice with Lewis were the only thing keeping him from flinching back as the creature slid past him to seize Mick’s thick forearm. Mick shouted, but a shake of the arm revealed his burned flesh was slowly smoothening out, almost like some coppery -

“ _It’s happening already._ ” It may have been his imagination, but Leonard swore he heard a note of guilt in that echoing hiss. “ _They must go._ ” The creature released Mick and crossed toward the fireplace, eyes fixing on the three of them when they did not move. “ _Say your goodbyes._ ”

“Goodbyes?” Lisa demanded, but Leonard had an inkling of what the creature meant, seeing what should’ve been a pinkened blush from the cold outside take on a metallic hue on his sister’s cheeks, cheekbones sharpening like a gilded statue’s.

“There’s magic at work in here,” Mick confirmed in a low voice. “Feels like another curse of sorts.”

“Another curse?” Lisa looked to Leonard with a scrutinizing stare. “You look fine. Better than fine, actually. Is it not affecting you?”

“Hard to say. Still warming up.” He did give his flesh another look, though, when his sister kept staring. There were no signs of copper or gold or whatever they expected to find. Being at a distance from the heat of the creature made him register the faint nag of the cold once more, but it seemed to be moving at a much slower pace, barely a tingle compared to the searing ache of frostbite before.

Then he met Lisa’s eyes and part of him wanted to freeze up again just to avoid the fury reflected back at him.

“You don’t have to do this,” Lisa whispered, as if she thought the creature not being able to listen in would bear some effect on changing his mind. “We can head south like we planned, find a warmer climate - ”

“I won’t last more than a few minutes out there once this curse kicks in,” Leonard said. “If the only thing keeping me from becoming an icicle is staying here, I’ll gladly take that chance. Mick, you know where Lewis’ old spell books were?”

Mick frowned. “Maybe. Gonna take some time to check.”

“Check everywhere you need to. Even send Mardon in to check with Lewis’ contacts, every witch you know of. He didn’t learn the curse on his own.”

“Lenny, look at me.” He obeyed, if only not to irritate Lisa as she ran her gaze over him, something unguarded poking through the cracks in her expression. If he looked closer, he spied faint, _literal_ cracks of gold forming above her furrowed brow.

He really did need to get them out.

“Do you really want to stay here? With that... thing?” she asked. “You can see the state this place is in, it’s not fit for - well, for _human_ life.”

Leonard appreciated when Mick turned away to give them some semblance of privacy. Even if he could see the master of the estate openly watching them. He let himself smirk, though he knew she would see the way the corners strained as if they were fraying ends of a rope.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, a temporary solution is better than nothing.”

“If this curse, or whatever this is on the place, is changing us, though - ”

Leonard ignored the hollow _ache_ in his chest that had nothing to do with the curse. He knew what she was trying to say. “I’ll be fine,” he repeated. “Just send word if you find a counter to this.”

“ _Lenny_ \- ”

“ _Time to go._ ” The creature strode forward and Leonard’s insides revolted again as his sister’s expression hardened when he took her arm and Mick’s, which the latter looked no less enthralled about than he had the first time.

He remembered when Lisa was little, no more than six, and he’d left on an errand from his father, promising to be back before sundown. He’d kissed her tears away and made her swear to be good, doing everything he could to make her smile before he left.

Leonard couldn’t help but be reminded of when he’d returned, four days late and covered in grime, and the stony look on his sister’s face when he’d had to leave again.

Except this time she was the one leaving, for better or for worse. 

He hardly managed to catch Lisa’s final “Be careful!” amidst Mick’s shouting as they were hauled away unceremoniously, leaving Leonard alone in the dark.

 

***

 

Hiding in the dark was a coward’s move. He didn’t need any inner voices of conflict, or his friends, to inform him of the foolishness of the decision.

Still, it brought him some form of comfort. Even if it felt miniscule after all these years.

Funny, though. Barry had been terrified of the dark when he was young, before his parents were gone and recklessness and anger had taken root deep inside him. His mother just smiled when he whispered of his fear and stroked his cheek, warm and soothing like a hot cloth to combat fever.

_Everything will be just fine. As long as there is light, there is hope. Darkness is where monsters thrive._

How he wished that were true, when in fact the opposite was coming to pass.

“Well!” He longed to heave a sigh as he listened to Cisco approach, somewhat warily if his hesitant clanking was anything to go by, and kept his back to the door. “That was certainly entertaining!”

“Haven’t you done enough?”

“Now, that’s a bit rude. Aren’t you in the least bit excited?”

He had to laugh, glancing back at the gleam in the candelabra’s eyes. “Excited? For what?”

“This man, of course. He could be the one, you know, to break - ”

“I know.” Cisco’s expression fell and a pang of guilt struck him no matter how Barry tried to keep his own emotions in check. He swallowed and paced toward the wardrobe on the opposite end of the room. “You think I haven’t thought of that?”

“I had hoped so.”

Cisco was a kind friend. Much kinder than he ought to be, considering his position and the scant thanks he received nowadays (which wrought another surge of guilt out of him). He was also far too optimistic about the curse and outcomes that…

Barry’s jaw clenched. Cisco made a questioning noise behind him as if he sensed the turmoil raging within him.

Well, he had no right to hope.

There could be room for none. Not when time was running out and he’d barely managed to keep himself stable during the earlier conversation with those three humans.

The thought of the man he’d escorted to an empty room a mere half hour ago was one he didn’t want to entertain. Cisco would’ve laughed had he known, called it shyness, but it hardly came from any sort of bashfulness.

Once upon a time, Barry might’ve considered staring a little longer, smiling if the man caught him in the act. He had never been well-liked - something Iris once denied when he brought the subject up - and his own naivety never led to anything good when it came to things remotely close to _love_. There had been little time back then, and with little experience he hadn’t sought much more than passing glances or touches.

But he could see what Cisco meant while watching this stranger struggle to his feet, to make eye contact and defy everything he said without a trace of fright in his eyes. There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved - not the halted, stiff movements that came from frozen limbs, but the slight cock to his head that mimicked the corners of his mouth. Staring down into the bright blue before him, like flames crackling in contrast to the yellow “skin” so close to his malleable flesh, and waiting for the other to turn away had been a strange experience.

The others weren’t necessarily _afraid_ of him, not even those who had been transformed more recently, but someone barreling headfirst into the fray without a mind to bear armor and a tough helmet against his defenses was... new. To put it lightly.

But there was a difference between courage and fondness, and there was a distinct lack of the latter in this man’s gaze.

“So?” Ever the impatient and eager friend, Cisco was.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Cisco squawked and Barry wanted to laugh at the sheer indignation in the candelabra’s voice. “Doesn’t matter? _Doesn’t matter?_ There isn’t much time left!”

“You think I don’t know that?” he snarled as he faced Cisco. “Time may not pass here, but I know how dire the situation is, _believe me_.”

“Then will you at least listen?” Barry suppressed a groan, catching a glimpse of a bobbing featherduster swanning into the room before closing his eyes for a long moment. “I recall you seemed to be good at that, once.”

“Iris.” When he opened his eyes, she was landing on the table nearest, her handle dipping as a stern look crossed what was left of her face. Even feathery and inanimate, she was no less lovely than she’d once been as a human. Cisco seemed to relax in her presence too, his arms slumping. “I thought you were checking on the man.”

She rolled her eyes. “Caitlin was more than happy to take up that task. Besides, we both knew Cisco would have little luck in talking you into this. No offense.”

“None taken,” the candelabra assured her.

“As in out of sight spying, or introducing herself to him?” Barry had to ask, his insides suddenly twisting at the thought of harm befalling Caitlin.

“Out of sight. She didn’t want to frighten him.”

Cisco laughed. “Him? Considering how quick he was to stand up to - ” His amusement died at the sharp look sent his way. “Ah… Well, you know what I mean. He certainly has a spine to him.”

“And a quick wit, too,” Iris conceded. “That deal was... unexpected.”

 _The greatest understatement of the century_ , Barry thought to himself. “Yes. He is clever.”

“And you seem to like him.”

This earned _her_ a glare in turn. “Because threatening the man was clearly flattery and a fun conversation starter all around.”

Iris folded her feathers across where her chest once was, and the gesture brought forth a wave of nostalgia for all the years they’d played together and argued over who got to chase who through the forest. Barry batted the memories aside and tried to school his expression into one of indifference.

It was harder to hide his emotions when he took up this form. Everything about it felt so... hollow.

Stretched thin.

Vulnerable.

“I saw the way he looked at you,” Iris was saying, drawing him slowly back to reality. “And no matter how irritated you pretend you are, you cannot deny you’re curious about him. He’s like us!”

“He is _not_ like us.”

“He’s cursed! You heard him, there’s no leaving this estate for him, not while that endless winter rages outside.” She fluttered closer when he made to turn, moving so he had to look at her on the table. “Sure, telling him about you will... perhaps not go so well. But there’s something in common! He seemed just as interested as you were in him, if only for curiosity.”

“Curiosity is not going to save you,” Barry snapped, and immediately regretted his tone when he saw how both Iris and Cisco went rigid. It was only for a split-second - the pair had gotten used to his causticness, something he had long since given up on taming when time was wasting and they were _trapped_ and this mess was _his fault_ \- but he caught the motion all the same.

Iris, however, had never been good at backing down, same as the rest of his dear friends, and straightened with purpose in the next moment, staring him down despite her much shorter height. “Well, there’s no harm in trying, is there? It’s not as if anyone’s been able to have a civil conversation with you in the last few years before turning into a spoon or a wardrobe.”

Barry winced. They have been friends for most of their lives - most of Iris’s life, he corrected, remembering the lonely years he’d spent between his parents’ passing and meeting the Wests - but no matter how hard Iris championed hope, or argued that he had no reason to feel this avalanche of guilt, he knew she had to blame him for her brother’s transformation.

Wally had been one of the first to turn, and the first to become solely inanimate.

Iris wept for nearly a fortnight after his last breath. She still couldn’t do more than glance at the lone, silent teacup in the kitchen.

“Barry.” Her voice softened around the edges of the name and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing back at her, the tension seeping from his body the longer she held his gaze. “All I’m saying is, maybe you just need to try. Maybe this is a sign.”

“Yes,” Cisco chimed in, looking eternally grateful for an opening to resume his gentle encouragement. “Precisely!”

“I know you want to see this as a blessing, but...”

“We don’t have much time left,” Iris reminded Barry, and while she didn’t intend her words to be quite so harsh, he found himself wincing again. “I know you want to accept your fate, but… There’s no better place to start than with a fresh start.”

“A rather convoluted way of telling me to get off my high horse,” Barry attempted to tease, though his words sank like stones within the heaviness of the atmosphere. Iris humored him with a wry smirk nonetheless. Still giving him chances, as always.

“Something like that. And you can start by apologizing to him. Showing him around. Making him feel more welcome.”

“Maybe a little feast can be arranged,” Cisco added, flames flaring as delight overtook him. “I’m sure he’ll be starving after such a harrowing trip.”

Barry shook his head, but it was impossible to stay angry when facing two equally bull-headed friends who only bore the best intentions.

And it wasn’t as if he didn’t owe them, after all he had subjected them to.

“As long as there aren’t twelve courses, I think that’ll be just fine.”

Cisco raised an arm to his face in mock offense. “I’ll have you know that our last feast was meant to last more than one night. Not my fault you have such a large appetite.”

“Yes, yes, now go tell the others. I’m sure you’re dying to break the news.”

“You know me too well,” Cisco said, with no small amount of fondness in his voice. Barry stared after the candelabra as he hopped out of the darkened room with a renewed spring in his step, rambling to himself as he went.

Iris sighed and the noise made him swallow involuntarily. A feather brushed his lower arm and he forced himself not to leap away, casting her an uncertain look as the white swan-like wing grazed him once more. Iris’s amusement began to morph into a melancholy smile.

“It will be fine,” she whispered. “Don’t worry so much.”

Barry choked on a laugh. It came out more like a sob. “You know me too well,” he said, a parody of Cisco’s affection when tinged with bitterness.

“You never stop worrying. Have some faith. Curses are made to be broken, yes?”

Guilt wound like a serpent in his gut. “Not all of them.”

“If that man can cheat death by huddling inside this hell,” he laughed again at her bluntness, no matter how true her words rang, “then anything is possible.”

“You saw the look on his face. He doesn’t plan to leave. He knows it is hopeless.”

“Then we just have to prove him wrong. Isn’t that what you’re best at?”

“Stubbornness and righteousness are what got us into this mess in the first place.”

“This is not like that,” she promised. “If you cannot think of him as a friend or something more - ”

“ _Iris_.”

“If you cannot think of him as anything else, think of him as a potential ally. It’s going to be lonely, trapped in here until who knows when. You’re going to have to keep each other company.”

Despite the obvious tease, because Iris was as subtle as a wildfire igniting in the middle of the forest, he had to look away at the wistfulness underlying her words. The unspoken _when we’re gone_ tacked onto the end of her last statement.

If there was anything he blamed himself for most of all, it was the forced hope and optimism that had been pressed upon most of the estate’s prisoners - occupants was too kind a word when none of them desired to remain here - due to his own selfish foolishness.

“How very considerate of you.” His words bore little condescension.

“I try.” The feathers left his side and Barry almost longed to call her back, just for that fleeting touch. “Now, rest up. You’re going to need it for tomorrow’s breakfast. We have a guest, after all.”

“Iris.” She paused, turning from where she looked prepared to leap off the table, and he again had to marvel at the exquisite rendering of her features into the swan-like handle of the feather duster. The curse had a sense of humor in its design. A morbid one, but humor nonetheless.

Barry stepped forward and hesitantly placed a hand on the wood, right beside her. “Do you think…” He growled, more out of frustration with himself than anything else. “I can’t maintain this forever. He’ll - He’ll _know_.”

Iris’s gaze held the same fondness Cisco’s tone had minutes earlier. Part of him hated that they could not hate him as he hated himself, that they did not yell and curse him or attempt to leave. 

But that was never Iris’s way, never could be. _Everyone deserves a chance_ , she had once said, young and bright while staring into his own frightened face. _Even monsters_. 

“And would that be so bad?” she asked, her voice almost inaudible.


	2. Chapter 2

Leonard awoke to a familiar chill creeping up his spine and had to grimace as he attempted to sit up, momentary panic striking him as the thought of _ice, wind, Lisa and Mick_ sank in. It didn’t help that the mattress itself was cool enough to make him shiver. He had to shrink back, in a rather undignified way, to keep his limbs from shuddering against the blankets. It took a longer while for the details of his memories to take shape amidst the half-asleep daze clinging to his mind.

Right. Alone in an estate with voices and creatures of lightning. 

The memory of the warmth sweeping off of that entity - and was there really a better way of describing the master of this place? - was enough to get him rolling out of bed, albeit with more grunts of pain. His limbs were still sore, beginning to return to their usual stiff state, which he knew was far from receding.

He wondered, with a short laugh to himself in the emptiness of the room, if it’d be wise to approach his friendly host to huddle against his side. Not that he _would_ , of course, but the idea was nothing if not amusing.

Leonard sniffed at the muck on his clothes, but despite the wardrobe in the corner of the room, he had a feeling it’d be better to keep his hands off anything in the estate. For the moment, that is.

Or, at least until he had a clearer plan for how to deal with whatever magic Mick had sensed permeating throughout the estate.

There was already clatter and noise downstairs by the time he left the room, treading carefully as he eyed the direction it appeared to be coming from. Someone was up early, tending to the kitchen, it seemed.

He was fairly sure that there was no one else in the estate, however.

Unless those whispers he’d heard last night were figments of his imagination.

Leonard prepared himself to bolt if he had to, edging around the corner as he resolved that whatever was in the kitchen didn’t sound too unfriendly. Loud and argumentative, yes, but not -

“I told you, there has to be enough room for the eggs!” A candelabra, nearly doubled over as it glared down at a herd of spoons and knives on the floor, candles wavering on its hips, huffed from where it was perched on the table. The amount of plates, piled with toast and steaming eggs and omeletes of all shapes and kinds, would’ve overwhelmed him had he not been so busy struggling not to _gape_ at the scene before him. “Honestly! It’s as if you’ve never eaten a proper breakfast in your lives - and don’t make that face, Harry, I _know_ you had that estate of your own - ”

“Oh!” Leonard spun around to find a wooden clock, gears and hands whirring as if in a panic for a moment, staring up at him with delicately carved features. The wide eyes darted behind him, perhaps to the irritated candelabra, before turning back to Leonard with something he swore was sheepishness in its painted smile. “Ah, hello. I suppose it’s no surprise you’re up early.”

“No surprise?” Somehow he managed to find his voice, and thankfully it did not come out as a croak.

“Well, you had an eventful evening. Lots of changes and... revelations.” The clock seemed to wince.

“I see our guest has arrived.” Yet another household item - Lisa would’ve laughed at the whole situation, he was certain, and maybe find it incredibly amusing rather than shocking - approached, fluttering as if carried on a breeze. A feather duster, he realized, taking in the swan head protruding from the handle, the smirk spreading across the white features as feathers fanned behind the object. He forced himself to stay put as it landed an inch from his boot. “Caitlin, would you mind helping Cisco? I think he is…”

“Stressed?”

“Going overboard,” the feather duster said with a hint of mirth in its voice. “You know how he is.”

“Harry, I _swear_ \- !”

The clock - Caitlin, he remembered - made a sound Leonard swore was a snort before nodding to the feather duster and clanking toward the long table in the dining hall and the cacophony awaiting her.

“You seem rather calm for someone staring at talking objects.” Yes, the feather duster definitely was enjoying this mess, to an extent. He couldn’t help but find it admirable as he turned back to find the feather duster bouncing in the air on feathery wings a foot from his face.

“Don’t have much of a choice. Unless this is a dream.”

The feather duster laughed. “No, not quite.”

“It’s not the strangest thing I’ve seen,” Leonard admitted, “nor the least plausible. Magic is not uncommon.”

This seemed to sober the feather duster, bringing the slightest of frowns to its face. “I suppose not.” Lifting the swan head higher, as if to elevate itself to eye level for a firm look, it drifted onto Leonard’s left shoulder to perch. He could hardly feel the weight of the object. “But you’re going to be staying with us for some time, yes, so getting used to our... messy ways, for lack of a better term, is for the best. And - oh! How rude we’ve been, not introducing ourselves. I am Iris, the clock is Caitlin, and the overheating candelabra is dear Cisco.”

“Pleasure.” Or, as much pleasure as one could get from a self-resigned prison. He moved further into the dining hall, trying to stay out of the rush of plates and cutlery as he went, which he suspected sparked a sense of entertainment in this Iris once more. “Are you all... enchanted?”

“For better or for worse.”

Interesting. “And your master, of sorts?”

He hissed as the swan head pecked his neck, though the pain was as brief as the sting of a paper cut. Touchy subject, apparently. “That is for him to tell you. And he is not our master.”

“Protective, are we? What, does he not rise with the sun’s light?”

“He rises whenever he desires.” There was a hint of tease in her voice, but he had a feeling it wasn’t toward him. “He is not known for being punctual. We offered to get a head start.”

“On making breakfast.” How bizarre his life had become.

“Yes. You traveled a long way, I presume, and you must be hungry. Unless that ice in your bones prevents you from eating.”

He fought the urge to snarl, an instinctive defense against the frustration of being reminded of his unfortunate condition. Still, something clicked into place and Leonard glanced at the feather duster with raised brows. “Eavesdropping, were we? I thought I heard something scuttling about last night, in the drawing room.”

If Iris was embarrassed, she didn’t show it. Then again, it was difficult to tell with her ivory face. “It’s not as if we couldn’t. You are in _our_ home.”

“Wasn’t judging. Just an observation.”

“Aha!” The candelabra hopped down the line of the table, golden face bright with eagerness as he spread his arms like a long-lost friend. Caitlin came slower behind him, looking equal parts exasperated and affectionate. “An early riser, huh? I guess we’ll have to wake our wonderful master a bit early as well!”

“So I’ve heard,” Leonard said dryly.

“Though, I do have to admit, I’m not unopposed to doing so. We’ve been up for hours!”

“Are you expecting a whole village?”

The candelabra huffed, perhaps annoyed by his jest. “Are you not hungry? Because if not, it’d be a shame, though I am sure B - our friend upstairs would be more than happy to take a few courses off your hands. He has quite the monstrous appetite for - ”

“Cisco,” Iris chided gently, sounding on the edge of another laugh. “Waking said friend?”

“Ah, right! Of course, how could I have - ”

“No need.”

He felt Iris snap around on his shoulder before he even turned, as if a shock had run through her ivory body; Caitlin and Cisco seemed to balk for a brief moment, looking terribly uncertain as they gazed behind him.

There was something familiar in the voice, quiet as it was, and even more familiar in the startling sight of the dark-haired man standing a few feet behind them, adorned in a too-large red coat and brown trousers. Leonard hadn’t even heard him approach, and the thought made him frown. He was growing too comfortable already.

Strangely, the man, who couldn’t be more than twenty-three, maybe a couple years more, looked more nervous than any of the household objects, all of which had come to a halt in their actions to watch. His hands twitched toward the hem of the coat, playing with the fraying fabric as his eyes - another shock, a spark of hazel that was again _so familiar_ \- met Leonard’s with no small amount of unease.

Iris floated off of Leonard’s shoulder and landed further down the table toward the stranger. “You’re up early,” she said, though her words were stilted, forced. It almost sounding like she was trying to comfort the other man. “And dressed too, look at that.”

The man glanced between the feather duster and Leonard. The tension in his shoulders did seem to be diminishing, if not slowly. “I _can_ dress myself.”

“One would hope so.”

The man rolled his eyes, but he looked more amused by the tease than anything, and somehow, staring hard and long at those eyes and watching the irritation come and go nagged at the back of his mind more incessantly.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Leonard managed to get out, his drawl flat as he appraised the other.

Tension began to creep back in, but the man, to his credit, just plastered a thin smile on his face. Like a hasty patch for wounds, Leonard thought.

“Barry. And you’re…?”

“Leonard Snart.” The name didn’t seem to ring any bells for the other, which was a mild saving grace. With an estate in the middle of a forest, though, perhaps he shouldn’t have expected anything else. “Don’t believe I saw you before.”

Barry’s mouth curled deeper into a smile that was as tart as a lemon. “This would be the first time, I suppose.”

And again, there was something about that statement and the way he smiled as if -

_Oh._

Now that…

He wasn’t sure what to do about that revelation. He supposed he should have guessed something was wrong, especially after Mick’s assessment of the estate and the magic saturating the air that had nothing to do with Leonard’s curse.

Which also answered his sneaking suspicion of just what this _other_ curse was.

His blood ran cold, a sentence that brought him dread no matter the context, and Leonard’s expression must have revealed some measure of his wrong-footedness because Barry’s smile froze. Then it soured further as he sighed, crossing the room and ignoring the questioning words of Iris as he passed, not that Leonard could catch what they were. Leonard didn’t dare step back, but part of him wanted to, watching this - no, this wasn’t a man, not with those _eyes_ and how had he missed the true voice from that reverberation last night -

“You must be starving.” Barry’s words were short, to the point, as he strode toward the head of the table. Cisco frowned as Barry passed him too, candles flickering. “Wherever you came from was not close by. There are no towns for miles.”

“Who said we came from town?”

Barry - was that even his name, he had to wonder - continued to his seat without a word. Leonard could see the taut lines of his back through the baggy coat from where he stood.

Iris caught his gaze and while she didn’t sigh aloud, he got the sense that she longed to. She nodded toward the seat at the opposite end, a small plea in her carved eyes.

He relented, but not before watching Barry take a seat first, making eye contact as the other looked up. Gone was the unease, replaced by a steely gleam that he recognized in Lisa’s stare whenever she felt as if challenging Leonard was the best course of action. Someone made a noise of relief as he took his seat, steepling his fingers to rest his chin on them and leaving the platters of eggs and ham untouched around him.

“Where else would your friends have dragged you from?” Barry asked after a couple of moments had passed in silence. “The woods are no place to live or camp out.”

“To each their own.”

Barry’s jaw tensed but he again said nothing, turning to the food and scooping the steaming eggs onto his plate. Leonard didn’t bother budging, watching the other move.

The thing was, when a curse had been mentioned last night, he had felt dismissal toward the idea. Curses weren’t exactly common, and most were only used by the most powerful of witches. Lewis’s came from spite and various dealers in witchcraft - the man had no sense of right or wrong, just that taking from others was a necessity - but even Leonard’s curse was a complicated magic unheard of.

Curses were not meant to be slow and life-consuming, but painful and heart-wrenching as your loved ones died, or bad luck came crashing down on your whole family, or a wild troll trampled your home one night in the middle of the summer.

He had also never heard of one transforming someone into…

Well, whatever that creature had been yesterday.

“Are you not hungry?” Barry didn’t seem amused by the staring.

“Famished.” This earned him a shake of the head from both Iris and Barry and he almost wanted to smirk. The household objects began hopping off the table and he paused to give them time to clank away or float off into the kitchen, where they’d likely continue eavesdropping. Not that he could blame them. “I suppose you can’t promise it’s not enchanted as well.”

Barry met his eyes and somehow the steel had hardened, shining bright across the table in those swirls of hazel. “Even if I told you enchanted toast is the best kind of toast?”

Leonard did smirk at that. “Well, who am I to say no to that.”

“The _toast_ doesn’t bother you, but my friends and - ” Barry bit his lip, as if this would prevent his next words from spewing forth, but he didn’t need to restrain himself. They both knew what he meant.

 _Friends_ , though. That word had come up a few times now, and Leonard found himself intrigued. No master of an estate could be called _friend_ to his servants. Not in such fond tones, at least.

“I never said they bothered me. Nor you.” Leonard tilted his head and allowed his eyes to narrow as Barry’s brow furrowed into a tight line. “Does raise some questions, though. Such as why a man would masquerade as that beast of lightning.”

“I’m not _masquerading_.” His tone was harsh, but Barry seemed more troubled than offended. “It’s… It’s a sort of condition. Like yours.”

“Some condition.”

“Could say the same for yours.”

Leonard couldn’t quite suppress the chuckle that escaped him, soft as it was. Barry looked startled by the sound, as if he hadn’t heard a genuine laugh in years, a fact he found very hard to believe given the boisterous company he kept. Still, it amused Leonard somehow to see this unassuming young man attempt to glower across the table and intimidate him when last night he had spat lightning and growled like a wild beast at Leonard’s every word.

He shifted one of his hands free to grab a fork, feeling those eyes on him all the while as he moved to spear a couple of eggs for his plate. So curious, unabashedly so.

Yet another thing they seemed to have in common.

“What is this curse, then?” He kept his tone nonchalant. Whether Barry believed in the casualness of the question was of little consequence. “You mentioned those who remained would face a fate worse than mine.”

He saw Barry flinch out of the corner of his gaze. “Those who remain here for too long… It’s irreversible. And, well, you’ve met my friends.”

Leonard figured as such but his stomach still churned. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would have such a twisted sense of humor that involving innocent people in a curse was necessary.

But then that begged the question -

“And yet it doesn’t affect me.”

Barry paused with his fork halfway to his mouth before resuming the motion. When Leonard looked up, the man’s frown had become more contemplative than irritated for the sake of being irritated.

“Yes.” He almost didn’t catch the word with how quiet Barry spoke. “That… That is new.” Barry shook himself and turned back to his food, clearing his throat. “But I’m sure it must have to do with your own curse. No one has come here bearing magic before.”

“I have no magic,” Leonard corrected.

“Still, it could be affecting how this enchantment affects _you_.”

“If I turn into an ice statue fit for your lovely home, I’ll be quick to inform you of such a change.”

He swore there was a quirk to the other’s lips, one that almost fit his (admittedly handsome) exterior even if it was a little sorrowful. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that, then. No one has ever stayed human for more than a few hours.”

“Aside from you.”

That quirk, imagined or not, vanished in a heartbeat. Leonard wanted to regret speaking, but it was hard to contain his curiosity and intrigue. “I am not bound by the same conditions.”

“And no less charming, so it seems.” Leonard fought back a laugh at the unimpressed look sent his way. “Though that doesn’t explain how a man such as yourself was caught up in an elaborate curse.”

“I never said it would.”

Leonard opened his mouth to retort, but Barry was already in motion, pushing back from the table and leaving the rest of his food untouched. Someone sighed, out of frustration it seemed, somewhere in the kitchen and he couldn’t blame them.

“I trust you’ll enjoy your breakfast. Excuse me.”

“Oh, so you do have manners,” Leonard drawled, flashing a sickly sweet grin that even Lisa would’ve been proud of as Barry started toward the entrance hall.

 _There_ was that familiar growl. Barry halted feet from his chair, as if deliberately ensuring they were on the same plane so he could scowl at Leonard head-on. Leonard wondered what it would take for that hissing beast to emerge fully and replace the tired, tightly-wound man before him.

(Not that he was complaining about the view.)

“Do you have to antagonize me every step of the way?”

“I had no idea such simple questions were a waste of your time.” Leonard allowed his teeth to bare in the false grin, a sight that made Barry bristle more. “It’s clear you’re a busy man.”

“If you’re going to be staying here, you cannot undermine me.”

“Why? So your prisoners are kept in check?”

Barry _snarled_ and stepped closer, hands balling into white-knuckled fists at his side. Without the lightning, the sense of peril was all but gone. He couldn’t take the other seriously.

Without the ominous echo of his voice, sparks flying off of limbs and pupil-less eyes boring into his, there was only a man with bags darkening under hazel eyes, lips taut and pulled into a sneer, looking every bit a child having a temper tantrum.

“Don’t you _dare_ call them that.”

“Is that not what you described them as? What with the curse taking hold and - ”

“I do not hold them here! I would _never_.” Something wavered in Barry’s voice, but the conviction rang true. “You understand nothing. This may be a prison, but it is not of my making. If I had my way, none of us would be here.”

“That attached to this estate, are you?”

Barry scoffed. “It is hardly mine.”

Leonard had been pushing deliberately, but he still paused at the other’s tone. That couldn’t mean -

Realization struck Barry at the same time it did Leonard and the man drew back with an openly stunned, then resigned expression. Before Leonard could speak, he fled the room, not quite running as he stormed out.

Cisco hopped out of the kitchen with a sheepish smile, glancing between Leonard and where Barry had once stood as the other household accessories peeked out in turn, but all Leonard could wonder was what kind of man got himself and passing travelers cursed and trapped within a home he did not own.

 

***

 

Summer and spring had delayed the signs of the curse. Though, none of them realized it at the time.

At first they thought the danger had passed. Maybe the fear of Lewis returning, the fact that he was truly _gone_ , hadn’t hit them yet, but it took months before Leonard realized, mid-way through setting aside funds for _escape, a back-up plan that he didn’t need_ that he was _free_. That his father wasn’t going to come breaking down the door with threats and fellow bandits who would’ve loved nothing more than to harm him or Lisa at the wave of Lewis’ hand.

Lisa, who had never been the best at showing genuine affection, a Snart through and through, hugged him the moment she saw him sitting there motionless and unable to stop staring at the gold he’d been counting.

By that time they were settled in, deep in the forest in the little cottage Mick had helped them acquire through a manner one could certainly not call legal. Running a band of thieves was time-consuming, and a band of healers and witches proved far more tedious to handle. Why he had agreed, at Mick and Lisa’s insistence, to take the others in was beyond him.

(“They have nowhere else to go,” Lisa had hissed, ignoring the glower he aimed her way. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather be able to keep an eye on rogue elementals like Mark anyway?”

“We don’t need any unknowns, variables we can’t control.”

His sister leveled him with a disbelieving look. “And yet you keep Mick around.”

And... well, he couldn’t argue with that, and somehow that had been the end of it.)

Still, he understood the appeal and while he would never admit it aloud,  Mark’s elemental magic, combined with Mick’s, as well as Shawna’s disappearing act and knack for healing and Hartley’s scrying, were far too valuable to be wasted. As hotheaded as Mark was, contradicting him at every turn and often biting out seething remarks when jobs didn’t go perfectly, he had a good eye for strategy and they could always use a pair of eyes and ears in the sky. Once he managed to get the hang of that wind trick he’d been attempting for a while now, that is.

And Leonard grew comfortable amongst his newfound _Rogues_ \- Lisa laughed the first time he used the name but it stuck - and he grew content enough to let down his guard.

Leonard collapsed during a job on the cusp of autumn, quite literally knocked off his feet and onto his knees as if the light breeze had dealt him a physical blow, unable to stand for several frightening moments despite Lisa’s bewildered-turned-concerned urging. Mick had to heft him over his shoulder, an embarrassing moment to say the least, as they made their escape even though Leonard protested and proved he could stand once they were back at the cottage.

Then Shawna performed a perfunctory scan with her magic for any injuries amidst the half-hearted age jokes, most of which came from Lisa attempting to dilute the panic that must have been coming off of everyone in waves, and she stopped cold at his heart, hand outstretched and thrumming, not quite touching his tunic.

She hadn’t needed to speak for Leonard to recognize the truth for what it was.

“I’ve seen spells similar to this,” her voice shook and Leonard willed her quiet if only not to see how ashen her face had become. “But never a curse so… Whoever cast this intended for you to suffer. You’re going to - _Leonard_ , you’re - ”

He had stormed from the room (not unlike Barry had in the dining hall that morning) before Shawna or Lisa could call him back, his sister still in a state of shock as the meaning sank in.

 _You’re going to die_.

It had taken Mick two hours to track him down and drag him back from town. He should’ve guessed that they would’ve sent Mick; stealing trinkets to test his skills and speed had always calmed Leonard down.

It took several more hours for Lisa to stop arguing with him on the matter and convince him not to run because _they could fix this, Lenny, they could fight this._

He’d known even then that there was no fighting a curse cast by his father - still battling his father’s control even after getting rid of the old man, how was that for a kick to the groin - and perhaps they all had too.

He just didn’t want Lisa to watch him freeze to death.

Maybe that was why they’d run into the woods when the job went wrong, accidentally stumbling into what seemed like a mild storm before getting trapped in snow as the curse quickened its pace all-too-eagerly. Maybe that was why he’d made the deal and pushed them away to ensure his own punishment, to live out the rest of his days with a temperamental creature cursed to solitary confinement just as he had been.

 

***

 

“He’s been in the library for hours.” 

Barry was certain he’d locked the door to his chambers, but somehow he couldn’t muster any surprise because _of course_ Iris had found a way in.

If he had to bet money - not that he had much or any use for it - he’d have sworn Harry had been teaching her how to slip through the keyholes of doors. A tight fit, but Iris had never let anything as trivial as locks stop her.

“I thought you should know, since you’ve been so busy and eager to get to know him.”

Barry shut his eyes and felt her land on his shoulder, light as the feathers adorning her slender form. “I have seen him.”

“You had breakfast with him _once_ ,” she groused and tickled his ear as he attempted to look anywhere but her face. “And ran off right in the middle of it. At least Caitlin managed to convince Cisco to store the leftovers for later.”

“I’ve _seen him_.”

“Shadowing him as he explores this estate does not count.”

“Have I ever told you how insufferable you can be?”

Another flick to his ear, and Barry jerked back, glowering when she looked far too pleased with herself. “Only every other week for the past few months.”

“Well, you are.”

“As are you,” she shot back, light and teasing as ever. “If only you would listen to me and stop sabotaging your own efforts.”

He crossed away from the desk, where he’d been fooling himself with ideas of going through old tomes for witchcraft, spells, anything that he hadn’t already tried reading, and let Iris lean against his head as he made for the door. “It’s not sabotage. I’m giving him space.”

“And avoiding his questions.”

“For good reason.”

“For the past week?”

He sighed. Unlocking the door was difficult when Iris insisted on snickering right in his ear. “What am I supposed to tell him? You heard what he said! He thinks - ”

“I know, I know. We all heard.” She nudged his neck as he got the door open, an unintentional mockery of their silent reassurances that made his heart ache. “Can you blame him? It does seem rather... outlandish. To consider other options, I mean.”

“He understood _your_ transformations just fine,” he grumbled.

“Because we actually _spoke_ to him without growling or snarling.”

Barry turned to glare at her again but the soft look on her face in turn softened his anger. He pushed through the door and into the corridor, the sounds of excited clatter down below already calling out to him.

“Barry. You said you’d try.”

“He’s trying to annoy me,” he protested feebly.

“And you are not doing much better. If I have to get Cisco to lock you both in the cellar, I will.”

She would make good on that threat. Barry headed down the corridor, away from the stairs, trying to keep his footsteps light. 

“What am I supposed to do when he keeps asking questions? What if it affects the curse?” _We have so little time,_ he wanted to cry out, remembering the snowdrifts outside, how they nearly blocked the doors when he made to slam them open.

A cruel punishment again, attempting to trap him inside further on the premises when he bore no strength to defeat such a heavy barrier.

The thought of being unable to leave, alone and forgotten with no way out - except perhaps the windows, but he wouldn’t survive long in a snowstorm - made every nerve in his body scream with panic and the urge to _run, run, run_.

“I’m sure if you couldn’t tell him anything, we would have found out by now. And I never said you had to tell him how to break it.”

“He’s smart,” Barry told her. “He’ll figure it out. Or Cisco will blurt it out in a moment of indecision, or in the interest of ‘helping me’.”

“Be nice,” she scolded. “He _does_ want to help you, same as we all do.”

“Speaking of help,” Caitlin’s voice came as she hopped around the corner to greet them, hands twitching on her painted face as time ticked slowly, “I’m afraid the moment I left him, he disappeared.”

Barry stopped in place and frowned. “You what?”

“I asked Caitlin to keep an eye on him,” Iris explained, though now she sounded worried. “Damn. He seemed interested in those books too.”

“Not for long.” Caitlin winced. “He… He may have caught on to what I was doing.”

Of course he had.

Iris huffed as Barry gently picked Iris up, ensuring that he kept his fingers above her face, and set her down beside Caitlin. “Well, he has to be around here.”

“I suppose I’ll go search for him,” Barry said, ignoring the smug gleam he could _see_ in both the feather duster and clock’s eyes. “He can’t have gotten far. It’s not as if he can run off - ”

Something caught Barry’s eye down below, over the staircase railing, a faint glimpse of dark clothing passing through the corridor and over to -

Right. Of course.

Why they couldn’t simply leave the man alone was beyond him. It wasn’t as if he _needed_ to know Leonard’s every move.

As he left Iris and Caitlin to stifle laughter at his scowl - _pout_ , Iris had said while poking his dimples once, back before they had lost hope, _you’re definitely pouting_ \- he didn’t bother hiding his approaching footsteps this time. Leonard probably heard him coming anyway, if the sudden casualness to his stroll was indication enough.

He had to admire the backbone on the man (while keeping his eyes firmly away from... other areas on said back). Not many people would dare talk back to him, nor snoop around his current place of residence.

And he did have to admit that he was curious about why the man insisted on antagonizing him, if only to interrogate Barry about his past mistakes.

Maybe the other didn’t interpret it that way.

Or perhaps he did, who knew. Barry was being blamed as a prison warden already.

Leonard paused before a door at the end of the corridor, and he maintained his distance as Leonard eyed the keyhole. Thankfully, Barry had had the foresight to lock the -

Leonard pulled a tool from the inside of his boot and Barry’s jaw dropped as he began to work it into the hole.

Well. That explained how Leonard was _exploring_ at all.

“You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

The man didn’t even flinch, confirming he truly had known Barry was there all along. Another commendable and infuriating matter to ponder. “Not like there’s much else to do in here. Your library’s sorely outdated.”

Barry bit back the childish retort of _it’s not mine_ and came up beside Leonard, who didn’t spare him a single glance. “You could have asked.”

“I didn’t realize I needed permission now. Or have your spying sessions grown tiresome?”

“I didn’t ask the others to do that,” Barry admitted. “They’re… They’re a tad enthusiastic to have company.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “I meant keeping watch from the stairs and tailing me.”

Ah. Barry’s cheeks flushed and he was grateful Leonard kept his gaze pointedly on his task at hand.

“That was… I...” Fuck it.

He cleared his throat and withdrew his keyring from his coat pocket. The noise earned him a strange look as he found the right key and nudged Leonard aside to unlock the door.

“What are you doing?”

“I’d prefer my doors intact. Besides, I’m not going to sit back and watch you break in.”

Leonard clucked his tongue and it took all his willpower not to smile. “If you want to suck all the fun out of it, I suppose.”

“Why do you even _have_ those tools?”

“I’m a thief.” Barry wondered if he had misheard the man but Leonard just stared back expectantly.

Which was... not something he expected the man to openly _admit_ to but... He _had_ broken in with his friends the other night.

Barry focused on unlocking the door instead, a much simpler task, and hesitated as he pushed it open with a glance back at Leonard.

“There’s really not much in here,” he said, but Leonard breezed past him even as he spoke. The brush of the man’s ice cold skin against his own was a shock, for many reasons, and he caught Leonard eyeing the point of contact as well once Barry followed him into the room.

Barry hadn’t lied; the room was bare except for an old wardrobe and paintings lining the walls, a large chest shoved into the corner. He wasn’t sure what the room had been used for, maybe simple storage, but Barry hadn’t gone through many of the items before locking it so who knew.

It wasn’t as if he’d been told what went down in the abandoned estate before he’d been all but tossed inside and locked away himself.

As if sensing his dark mood, Leonard looked over from where he’d been examining some of the paintings to meet Barry’s gaze. In the quiet of the room, the sight was enough to give his lungs a harsh squeeze, that telltale flush returning.

“Who owned this place?”

Barry shrugged. “Someone who didn’t care much for upkeep.”

Leonard’s mouth twitched. “You don’t care for it either, judging by all this dust and these cobwebs lying about.”

“Never said I did.” Barry shook off the strange twist in his chest the longer Leonard stared, moving closer with his arms folded. “There’s not much to care for.”

“Ah. You prefer people, then.”

He got the sense he was being made fun of. “When they mind their own business, yes.”

“Your friends don’t do much of that,” Leonard pointed out. That smirk was maddening.

“You fit right in with them.”

Perhaps the retort was too soon, a bit too revealing. Leonard’s smirk faltered, the look in his eyes a bit more critical than before, as if he anticipated finding an answer if he squinted hard enough.

Leonard inclined his head and something Barry was unable to discern crossed his features. “Suppose that’s a good thing.”

Barry found himself swallowing hard. He wasn’t sure why. “How so?”

A hint of amusement flickered behind blue eyes. “Makes both of our lives less tedious and more interesting.”

He snorted, and somehow the smirk became a small, barely noticeable smile. Barry ducked his head and looked away as the lightning under his skin, fighting to break free, sparked imperceptibly along his arms. It was getting harder to control which form he took, and with Leonard watching him so keenly, part of him was torn.

Barry had never had someone interested in him - well, not _that_ kind of interested, which was a whole different train of thought he was absolutely not entertaining. And not relevant. At all.

But, anyway, Barry had never met someone interested in both the human and inhuman side of him - who wasn’t a friend or someone he’d grown up playing with, that is. He was almost positive that Leonard was intrigued, though, given the way he stared at Barry in either form, and how quickly he fell into this cat-and-mouse game of pushing Barry’s every button.

Or maybe he was simply interested due to their cursed states, and the warmth that had saved him yesterday evening.

Barry didn’t know why, but the very thought made his insides curdle like spoiled milk.

Something crashed, probably from the kitchen if the resounding shouts and familiar clang of pots and pans was any sign, and Barry flinched as the moment shattered, Leonard’s expression smoothing over like a blank slate.

“I should…” He gestured weakly toward the door, flashing Leonard the best smile he could muster. “Ah, I should go. See about them. Not that they can hurt themselves, but - ”

“Better safe than sorry,” Leonard finished with a wry twist to his lips.

“Right.” Barry cast a glance around the room, darkened thanks to the setting sun outside the window and no candles within. “I’m sure everything will be right where I left it when I return.”

“Of course.” The sudden purr almost made Barry shiver and had little to do with the permeating chill in the estate.

Barry still hesitated, not quite moving and he was sure Leonard found it greatly amusing. A voice resembling Iris’s hissed in the back of his mind, _Be nice._

“Would you - if you want to read more books, there are some I found in the library on countercurses?”

Leonard’s eyebrows shot up. The fact that he didn’t bother to hide his surprise was telling. “Who said I was reading anything about those?”

Barry grimaced. “I mean, I assumed… I don’t know. What _do_ you like to read?”

And somehow that was the right question to ask, whether either had known it or not. Leonard chuckled and Barry felt his shoulders drooping not out of disappointment but _relief_. Since when did he care about this man’s feelings?

( _Since when have you_ not _cared about others?_ teased that mischievous voice in his head.)

“History. Anything you’ve got on historical records.”

Barry wrinkled his nose before he could think better of it. “And you called me boring.”

“I said no such thing. And they’re not.”

“But ancient histories are so dull!”

“I never said anything about _ancient_ history,” Leonard reminded him again, looking more and more amused for some reason. “I just find it all fascinating. Can’t learn from the past unless you know it.”

“Just for that, I’m going to make Cisco grab them - if he doesn’t wind up setting them on fire accidentally first.”

“Oh, really?”

“Harry, I _swear_ , if you - !” The shout was cut off by more clanging and Barry shut his eyes, heaving a drawn-out groan. He felt strangely bereft, as if something important had been interrupted.

Which it hadn’t. Not really. Arguing over Leonard’s poor and boring taste in human history was not -

“That is the _last time_!” Cisco’s voice rang out, relaying the same frustration Barry felt. He waggled a finger at Leonard as he made for the door, getting the feeling that he would wind up with a few burns of his own trying to pry the household objects off of each other. What was friendship without some mild bodily harm, after all?

“Just - books. Let me know about the books.” Barry ducked out of the room before Leonard could make any more sly remarks, feeling his face heat up in a way that had nothing to do with his other form.

Iris and Caitlin gave him knowing looks the whole time he dealt with Harry and Cisco’s little dispute (“Deliberately spraying me with water is not a _little dispute_ , traitor! _E tu_?”) and the strangest part was, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

 

***

 

Outside the estate, a man grinned in the shadows of the calming storm, staring through the windows.

In the next instant, and a roaring crackle of red light, he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Barry was loathe to admit it, but after the initial encounter with Leonard sneaking around, he found himself holing up in his chambers less and less. Lurking in the dark was something he had never liked in the first place, even while he desperately tried to control his transformations at night where no one could watch, but Barry remembered roaming the estate much like Leonard had, searching for clues and going through anything he could find to alleviate boredom.

Roaming with someone who knew as little about their makeshift prison as Barry did, who had a keener eye and made him belly laugh for the first time in years, was an entirely different experience.

Leonard preferred silence, or simply remaining quiet, but Barry tended to ramble despite the surprisingly comfortable silences as they walked and Leonard didn’t appear to mind the chatter as long as he could explore the premises. Barry knew all too well what being cooped up did to your patience, and the man was good about dragging them into the kitchens when Barry forgot to eat (hey, human bodies came with _insatiable_ appetites that even he wasn’t used to).

Most importantly, though, Leonard was the first person in a long while that Barry could talk to about books that weren’t medical tomes (Caitlin’s favorite) or a haphazard collection on witchcraft. Sure, he had terrible taste - Barry was certain he was teasing him on purpose by grabbing the largest and thickest tomes he could find on wars and history of surrounding territories - and no affection for the not-so-subtle romances Cisco tried to slip in once to “pique their interests”, but what little time Barry had spent in the library before had been to read any and every genre he could find. Or make it through, since some books could not hold his attention span long enough. Leonard seemed to understand this within the first couple days, and managed to find a variety of books for him based on interests Barry mentioned in passing. Barry had never known there were so many volumes on mythologies and theories about magical creatures that had nothing to do with curses (thank goodness).

The others were over the moon, constantly beaming at them and leaving Leonard and Barry alone when one walked into a room where the other was. Barry rolled his eyes over it, but he knew they were grateful, and beyond hopeful that this would change everything, that this would free them and him and life could return to what was once normalcy.

He did feel selfish, though, attempting to spend time with this strange new companion when he was damning others to the curse - and possibly Leonard to his own.

Which brought about an _unusual_ problem in the form of Barry’s immaterial body.

Leonard was always cold. Or, at least, chilly and trying to hide his shivers at one thing or another, be it a small breeze or his body rebelling against the curse. Barry couldn’t stand watching him fight it, even while Leonard insisted on not wearing a coat indoors and once swatted Barry away from wrestling him into the drawing room where he’d asked Cisco to get the fireplace going. Barry knew it was a matter of pride, it had to be, but watching Leonard suffer was fun for no one, least of all the man himself.

The worst part was, that Leonard would give him these searching looks whenever Barry attempted to help, as if to say _when are you going to transform?_

Barry didn’t know how to tell him those encounters were going to be far and few between.

He _was_ able to provide warmth to Leonard when he could manage his other form, or sometimes as a human himself, though the latter were more awkward instances given that they had to be touching to warm Leonard up. But with so little time left and a greater challenge rising to control his intangible body, he was beginning to grow frustrated and concerned for Leonard’s future. According to what he discerned from the man, the curse had sped up in contact with any sign of winter, and had he not stumbled upon Barry, he likely would’ve frozen to death within a day or so.

What would happen if Barry couldn’t break the curse upon the estate? Not only would he lose his friends, everyone left he loved, but he wouldn’t be able to combat _Leonard’s_ curse either. How was he going to protect Leonard when Barry was the reason he stayed behind in the first place?

 _Delaying the inevitable_ , a singsong voice whispered, sounding far too much like -

No. No, everything would be fine. He had to believe that - for his sake, for Iris’s, for Cisco’s, for everyone in the estate.

For Leonard’s.

“You look less interested in magical theory than usual.” Barry looked up from his book - which he truly hadn’t been paying attention to for the last half hour, rereading the same passage five times - and saw the self-satisfied look on Leonard’s face staring back at him.

“I - oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, just… I’ve been distracted, that’s all.”

That didn’t help his case; Leonard somehow looked _more_ intrigued, tilting his head as he leaned forward a little across the suddenly-too-small table. “Oh?”

“Not by anything important, not that this isn’t - or, I suppose it is, I just - ” Barry bit his lower lip hard. “I was wondering, actually. About your curse.”

Leonard’s amusement dissolved before his eyes. “What about it?”

Barry closed his book carefully and eyed Leonard for a moment. He didn’t want to upset the other man, but now that he’d admitted to it, he couldn’t deny his curiosity. “You never told me how you were cursed.”

“Not an entertaining story.”

He tried to smile but it came out more like a grimace. “Must’ve pissed off someone powerful.”

It was impossible to tell what Leonard was feeling, his expression a cool, indifferent mask. Leonard leaned back in his chair and Barry found himself leaning the same direction before he corrected the motion and pretended he’d merely intended on placing his elbows on the table.

“No one with magic at their disposal. Likely called in a favor from a witch, or maybe he had a cursed artifact on him.”

“Who was it?”

“My father.”

If Barry had not been looking up already, he had a feeling he would have gotten whiplash turning to gawk at Leonard. “Your _what_?”

Leonard shrugged, the epitome of nonchalance and Barry didn’t understand _how_ when he himself couldn’t stop staring in horror. “The old man was paranoid. Didn’t trust anyone as far as he could throw them. Was probably a precaution against backstabbing partners.”

“And you... what? Stabbed him in the back somehow?”

“Quite literally.”

Oh.

Barry opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn’t know how hurtful a relationship like that could be, father and son harming one another until one of them gave into the cycle of pain in the end, but the tightness in Leonard’s shoulders spoke volumes. “I take it you two didn’t get along.”

“Not particularly, no.”

An understatement, it seemed. Cursing your own son to freeze to death for wanting revenge, from what he could discern, was…

It was _cold_ , for lack of a better term.

“I’m sorry.”

Leonard’s eyes darted to his, if only for a moment. “Why?”

It was Barry’s turn to shrug. “No one should have to suffer what you’re going through. I saw how terrified your sister was. You were half-dead when you arrived here.”

“You didn’t strike me as someone who considered pity a reassurance.”

“I’m not - this isn’t pity, no!” Leonard looked ready to bolt and red flags waved frantically in the back of Barry’s head as he tried to reword his sentiments. It hurt to admit, but he forced himself to hold Leonard’s gaze, strong and steady. “I’m apologizing. I… I was cruel to you that night. I saw how badly you were shaking and I just wanted you gone. All of you. I didn’t care about your well-being.”

“Funny, I couldn’t tell.”

He decided to take the deadpan tone as a good sign and let a nervous laugh escape his lips. “Shocking, I know.”

“Though, I believe that would be a lie.”

Barry frowned. “What? It’s - It’s not.”

“You said your curse turned people into inanimate objects. And all your urging and growling may have been threatening at the time, but the man behind all those threats doesn’t seem like the type to encourage wayward travelers to spend the night in his enchanted home.”

Barry swallowed a lump, and he could feel the weight of Leonard’s stare like a physical touch on his face. Whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, he couldn’t quite decide.

“Or,” he stayed silent as Leonard grinned, not as wide as his usual smirk, “you’re just a grumpy young man who prefers the company of the friends he already has and despises strangers dragging their brothers into your drawing room.”

“It’s a real toss-up.” Barry’s voice came out tentative despite Leonard’s teasing, and maybe that was what got that grin to soften, just a little.

Either that or wishful thinking. It was hard to tell these days.

“Aren’t you two an odd pair?” came a coo near the doors of the library, yanking him back to reality hard enough for Leonard to smirk at the way he flinched.

Barry wondered if this was what Iris meant when she griped about her father and her brother always walking in on her and fiance.

Which bore little comparison to this situation.

For no reason in particular.

Barry kept his eyes carefully fixed _away_ from Cisco as his base clanged on the floor the closer he got to their armchairs, hating how transparent he was as his cheeks flushed.

“Thought you didn’t like the library,” Leonard said, eyeing the candles on Cisco’s arms warily as the candelabra reached their feet.

Cisco huffed. “I used to read books all the time! Perhaps more than Caitlin. Now, though…” He waved said candles in a half-hearted shrug. “I’d prefer not to set these lovely books on fire.”

“Caitlin once threw him out because he set her favorite medical tome on fire,” Barry told Leonard in a mock-whisper.

“Which was an _accident_!”

“You better hope she doesn’t catch you in here,” Barry warned. “She’s still bitter about that.”

“Nonsense,” Cisco dismissed, but he did cast a glance over his shoulder. “Caitlin and I are the best of friends - second only to you, of course - and certainly will not mind if I take a few moments of my time to check in.”

“Check in?”

Barry didn’t like the mischievous gleam in Cisco’s eyes (though it may have come from the light hitting his metal “skin”). “Well, it’s nearly time for dinner. I’m sure you two are more than hungry by now. Unless I walked in at a bad time?”

“I think we are about ready for some food.” Leonard shut his book and pushed off the table to his feet. His leg brushed Barry’s as he stepped away and Barry swore he felt a spark that had nothing to do with the lightning flickering weakly in his veins.

“Splendid!” Cisco clapped his arms together with a clang that made both men wince. He hopped toward the doors and Barry got to his feet to follow with a sigh. “We’ve got another wonderful meal planned, don’t you worry.”

“Is he always like this?” Leonard murmured as they followed the candelabra out of the library. Cisco’s chatter was a comfort in the empty corridors, but there was something about Leonard’s low voice that felt like more of a comfort than anything else in this prison.

“He’s very excitable. We haven’t had much company as of late.” And certainly none that had remained human for more than a day. Leonard’s curse must’ve been counteracting the estate’s magic somehow, for he claimed there were no signs of him turning into a chandelier or an oven any time soon.

“Planning feasts every other night is part of that, I assume.”

Barry chuckled. “We tend to have big portions, regardless. I have a large appetite.”

“So I noticed.” Barry’s insides twisted like a content kitten curling across a mound of blankets and he had to avert his gaze when Leonard’s eyes flitted down his body in a quick once-over.

“Now, now,” and despite what Cisco may claim, he did _not_ jump at the sound of his voice (even if it made Leonard chuckle) as the candelabra stopped before the staircase to wait for them, “adjusting to a human stomach can be difficult. Just the same as we have to deal without one.”

“What could you possibly consume as the beast?” Leonard asked, appearing genuinely curious even if the term _beast_ made Barry want to flinch. “Is it truly that jarring when you change?”

“Jarring? Not the word I’d use,” Cisco murmured and began his descent down the stairs. Barry wanted to swat him for encouraging the conversation, but doing so would only send the candelabra flying. Dealing with an aching back, aside from his other stiffening limbs, was not something Barry wanted to inflict on his friend.

“Not really,” Barry tried to sound dismissive and settled for a glare in Cisco’s direction. He could practically hear the gears turning in Leonard’s brain. “I don’t eat when I... change.”

“Maybe it’s a matter of the energy you’re giving off, then. All that electricity and power can’t come from nowhere.”

“Huh.” Cisco looked thoughtful. “Makes sense. I wonder if your appetite will go away, or lessen, I guess, if that’s derived from energy.”

Barry’s gut clenched. He didn’t need to look at Leonard to see the way he paused on the step behind him.

“Why would that happen?”

The candelabra glanced up at them and the reality of the situation seemed to start to sink in as his expression dropped into something more nervous. Leonard, of course, took notice immediately, eyes narrowing.

Barry wanted to bury himself in one of the snowbanks outside, a daydream he’d entertained many a time but never as fiercely as he felt now.

“I - ah…” Cisco laughed, the flame adorning his head dimming. “Who’s to say? Just a passing thought one might have. Perhaps.”

“ _Cisco_ ,” Barry hissed under his breath.

“I mean, you’re right about the energy. Has to come from somewhere.”

“Why would it go away?” Leonard’s voice was hardening like stone by the second.

Cisco cast another glance to Barry, a blatant cry for help, but all that did was turn Leonard’s attention upon him. It took all of his willpower not to shrink back against the railing.

“Leonard - ”

“ _Where_ would that energy go, Barry?”

He closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Gone. Sucked out of me, taken, _I don’t know_ ,” Barry snapped. “There is no answer I can give you.”

He hated the look on Leonard’s face, how distant the man was despite the fact that they were standing less than a foot apart. Leonard stepped down to Barry’s eye level and he wanted to squirm, but he stood his ground. Cisco fidgeted on the lower steps as if he wanted to intervene but wasn’t sure how.

“Sucked out of you.”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“ _Why_?”

He couldn’t say it. He knew it was irrational, that he had nothing left to lose, hadn’t for a long time, but the vitriol in Leonard’s voice made him sick with guilt and his tongue lay unresponsive.

Leonard nodded as if Barry had spoken after all, his jaw set. “Then I suppose that explains the rareness of your transformations.”

 _Something like that_ , he wanted to say.

He didn’t move as Leonard passed him, heading down the staircase and ignoring Cisco’s stammered cries. Everything was numbed, happening worlds away while nausea in his stomach swelled and he could only picture a red-tinged leer in the shadows, a voice attempting to soothe him with the claim that _You only have yourself to blame for this, Barry_ -

“Delaying the inevitable seems a cruel fate to inflict on anyone.” Leonard’s voice carried above the clatter of Cisco’s hurried clanks down the stairs after him. Barry didn’t turn, unable to face the sneers, the accusations he _knew_ were headed his way. “Best to face it, I suppose.”

“Wait, Leonard!”

The doors blew open with an emphatic bang and Barry froze. Cisco shouted something else but he couldn’t understand it, not over the raucous howl of the wind and the rising panic in his chest because -

He wouldn’t.

Leonard _wouldn’t_.

 _Unless he had no choice_ , cooed that voice that sounded suspiciously like -

“ _Barry_!” Cisco yelled, and suddenly he was flying down the stairs, close to tripping over his feet as he spotted Cisco trying to make it out the open doors before he was blown back by the combined wind and unseen barrier holding him prisoner. He couldn’t quite breathe (damn useless human lungs), couldn’t suck in enough air, but he managed to hit the ground running, barrelling past his friend out into the snow.

 

***

 

There was a time Barry was happy. Or, _happier_ , that is.

He was born in the midst of a storm, high above a forest that had all but engulfed what once was a flourishing town. His parents - though one couldn’t truly be “born” in the same way humans were, he supposed - encouraged benevolence and calm storms, dissuading wrath upon humans and his kin alike. _Act the way you want to be treated_ , his mother would soothe, fingers of lightning stroking between his horns.

So he danced in the skies, amongst the clouds and rain and the electric hum that filled the atmosphere with the coppery tang of ozone, striving to be friendly to everyone he met, and he needed nothing more.

Then his parents passed. Taken adrift by the wind, some spirits murmured, or moving on to better territory. Who knew the difference? There was none. Best to forget the matter.

Barry knew the difference. He _knew_ one did not simply pass, especially not so abruptly and without warning.

They couldn’t have.

One of the spirits Barry felt kinship with brushed aside these warnings as well, assuring him that his parents were thoughtful and kind and surely wouldn’t abandon him without a word. It had to be deception of the worst kind, the spirit whispered, his expression contrite, jealousy and anger ruling their hands.

His father had earned many enemies, not simply for his refusal to wreak havoc on humanity with frequent storms but for the rumors that he had been interacting freely with humans, sharing secrets about his kin. It wasn’t a stretch to come to the same conclusion the spirit was suggesting, and when he did, Barry swore to avenge his parents’ demise.

He raged for nearly two years, determined to find whoever had caused him such grief and shoved this emptiness through what passed for a heart in his chest. Thunder heaved and carried throughout most of the summer, lightning licking on his heels across the skies with renewed fury. He caught the words of travelers through it all, claiming it had to be a curse from the gods, or maybe witchcraft.

(Ironic, he thought to himself now, given the circumstances.)

The only thing that brought him joy and eased the heartache plaguing him came in the form of visiting the human cottage on the edge of a forest, not far from where he’d been birthed from lightning and thunder. The father of the house worked as a carpenter in a town an hour’s ride away, educating and raising his son and daughter on his own.

Perhaps it was their loneliness that first persuaded him to show himself to Iris, late at night while she watched for stars through the ever-present gray clouds.

Perhaps it was his own.

She had thought him a star himself, eyes wide and awed, until he explained he was a spirit of lightning, of storms great and wide.

She then berated him for the amount of rain soiling what was left of their crops, for giving her brother a nasty cold because “You ought to know better, causing this much havoc when _some of us_ can die from colds like this!”

This indignant human girl sounded so much like his mother he was almost cowed, but Barry found himself laughing by the end of the night, feeling better than he had in a long while. The rainfall ended within the hour, the thunderstorm passing on and leaving a shimmering rainbow by morning.

It was Iris who introduced him to her brother Wallace - “Wally to you, please,” he’d said with a snort when Barry attempted niceties, “I’m not an old man.” - who found Barry’s dancing fascinating and often begged him for races through the woods just to watch the heat and lightning trail off his skin. It was also Iris who smoothed things over when Caitlin, the family healer, and _her_ best friend Cisco stumbled upon Barry and Wally experimenting with a miniature storm in the latter’s bedroom.

(“I _knew_ you were hiding something!” Cisco crowed with glee, though his eyes were lit up with similar fascination to that which captivated the West siblings, completely missing that Caitlin looked ready to swoon. “No wonder your rooms are always so warm!”

“ _That’s what you’re focusing on_.” Barry tried to hold in his laughter but Cisco was already firing off questions at a breakneck pace, bouncing in place as Iris shook her head behind his back.

After that, the pair came to visit far more than the usual “check-in” on Wally’s health.)

He had no idea that his frequent visits to the human family, the only thing grounding him and steadying his seething need to destroy those that had wronged him, would be his undoing and subsequently his newfound friends’.

 

***

 

Leonard was foolish. That went without saying.

He also couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the signs, couldn’t have recognized them for what they were. For a man who claimed to be a monster, Barry wore his heart on his sleeve, rarely hiding what he felt.

Except in the case of hiding the fact that his help would be _useless_ once Barry’s curse ran its course.

_Sucked out of me. Taken._

An odd choice for a witch’s curse, but perhaps that was the intent. Show your hand, enforce monstrosities and inhuman consequences - then take it all away and leave your victim with nothing. No friends, no family, just a house you don’t belong in holding you captive. Leave you unharmed in the aftermath physically, but wreak devastation for everyone you care about.

He wished he could blame Barry for hiding the truth.

Leonard couldn’t feel much more than generally angry at the moment, though, the all-too-familiar crackling of ice up his legs, rooting him to the icy steps, barely five feet from the doors. Steam rose with his breath as he could _feel_ how blue his lips were. That sluggish haze he had once gotten used to hit him like a freight train, nearly bowling him over as he struggled to remain upright, to try and keep moving.

He couldn’t blame Barry, but he couldn’t subject himself to confinement for who knows how long. Delaying the inevitable and all that.

Someone was shouting, but they sounded as if they were underwater, drowned out by the roar in his ears. Leonard struggled to push forward, aiming to ignore them.

A patch of ice caught him by surprise and Leonard skidded forward on rigid limbs, gritting his teeth as his jaw muscles locked, freezing with the numbness returning to his legs. He would have face-planted in the snow had a pair of lean arms not wrapped around him, the person behind him gasping under his weight as they nearly toppled backward. He didn’t have to turn his head to guess who it was.

“Len - Leonard,” Barry’s voice was loud in his ears, desperate unlike anything he’d heard from the man. “What were you _thinking_?”

Leonard attempted to respond but his chest felt like it was on fire, too hot and too cold at the same time as Barry struggled to pull him toward the estate. He realized Barry was shivering against him, skin paling against his own.

He should warm up soon. Barry, not Leonard. He had a rather convenient curse after all, when surrounded by a relentless blizzard.

Still. Barry was a fool, running out after him with no coat. Wouldn’t do anyone any good if he froze too.

There was that shouting again - it sounded like Cisco’s voice, frantic and frustrated.

Barry grunted as he spun Leonard toward the doors, no easy task when Leonard’s legs were literally turning to ice, and called out as well for Caitlin to bring a warm towel or cloth. _Won’t help_ , he wanted to say. _Lisa and Mick already tried those months ago._ Instead, he let his eyes droop, feeling sleepy all of a sudden.

“Whoa, no, no.” Barry shook his shoulders, then hefted him over the threshold into the estate, teeth grinding together audibly as a shudder overtook his body like an electrical jolt. Leonard watched it hazily and realized there was a faint flicker of yellow in the veins of Barry’s forearms that died out the moment they stumbled further into the estate. “Stay awake, I need you to stay awake. Cisco, we need - ”

“Towels,” yes, that was definitely the candelabra, hopping about with an incessant clang that made Leonard want to wince, “I heard you the first time.”

“No, the couch - ”

“What could you possibly be shouting - ” Someone gasped and Leonard blinked, frost clinging to his lashes. He tried to turn to see who it is. “Oh, what _happened_? Barry - ”

“I need to get him to the couch.” Barry’s voice was shaking alongside his hands. “He needs to warm up.”

“Can you - ?”

“I don’t know, but I have to try!”

Leonard wanted to drift off, hissing as Barry helped him to the couch - more like dragged him, really - but there was heat coming off of Barry, no matter how faint. He followed Barry’s movements with slow precision, and found himself leaning into the warmth of Barry’s hands as they cradled his face like he was somehow fragile. There was _something_ buzzing underneath the other’s skin, Leonard could feel it through his palms, though he wasn’t sure if it came from Barry’s trembling.

“Don’t...have to,” Leonard managed to mutter. It was difficult to discern what Barry was talking about. He didn’t need to force anything for Leonard’s sake.

Barry shook his head. “You’re going to freeze to death. I can’t just let you - ” He swallowed and Leonard realized there was a wet sheen to Barry’s eyes. They looked greener than usual. “You’re not going to die, yes? And we are _not_ going to run out into the middle of a storm again.”

Caitlin and Cisco hurried closer, the former bearing a cloth on her head that kept flopping into her eyes so much Cisco had to direct her where to go. Barry removed one of his hands, which had been doing a rather nice job of trying to warm Leonard’s cheek, to scoop up the cloth and rescue her before slinging the cloth over Leonard’s neck. Leonard was grateful at least one of them had medical experience and remembered to keep it dry.

“I don’t know what else we can do for him,” Caitlin said quietly, so low he almost couldn’t catch her words. “The curse is taking hold faster. This isn’t like regular hypothermia, Barry.”

“I know that,” Barry snapped, but there was a note of hysteria in his tone that none of them could miss. He shut his eyes, looking rather constipated as his hands continued to shake against Leonard’s face.

There was that buzz again, a faint thrum that felt oddly familiar and warm, like a stove heating up slow and steady. Caitlin and Cisco didn’t seem alarmed if they could sense the same heat - they probably couldn’t, Leonard amended, considering neither had flesh. They just stared, and fidgeted in Cisco’s case, at them with uncertainty plain in their eyes.

“Barry…”

“It’s _fine_.” Barry sounded anything but, which only made Caitlin look more worried. Leonard couldn’t blame her; as much as he wanted to sleep, slip into unconsciousness, the mixed panic and frustration on Barry’s features, brows drawn harshly together as if he were concentrating on _something_ , was a little alarming. “I can - I can do it, I - damn human bodies, just -  ”

He wasn’t sure why Barry was so desperate, nor what he was babbling about. Leonard’s breath steamed in a smaller cloud as it came out, and he hissed as he tried to reach for Barry’s arm. It felt like his muscles were on fire and cramping at the same time. “Can’t… Can’t force… You… ” His eyelids fluttered and he paused to catch his breath. It was getting harder to breathe properly, a weight sitting heavy on his chest.

“No, _please_!” Barry must’ve thought he was about to pass out, or perhaps further gone than either of them had realized, and his yell came out strange, as if it were reverberating -

An unexpected _jolt_ of voltage struck his face and chest, small and no more than a spark thankfully, and Barry’s eyes opened wide before flickering, then solidifying into the yellow-gold pupiless stare he hadn’t seen for quite some time. Someone gasped and Barry let out a shaky sigh of relief, human flesh giving way to a ferocious swirl of lightning, electric horns and all.

Leonard gritted his teeth as waves of warmth crashed over him, too much and too soon at first against his skin, and Barry seemed to recognize his discomfort because the heat lessened ever-so-slowly. The haziness started to fade and Leonard dropped his head back with a huff, swallowing hard while the rigidity began melting in his bones. Leonard bore little shame in shifting so his frozen legs - which he realized were almost entirely ice by this point - were closer to Barry’s warmth. It wasn’t as if the other wasn’t halfway on top of him already.

A matter he might’ve liked to explore in other contexts, now that he thought about it but - well. Not the time.

“ _Better?_ ” Barry’s voice was still echoing, so it was hard to tell, but it sounded as if he were in pain trying to keep up the steady stream of heat, eyes narrowed and twitching.

Leonard licked his chapped lips and cleared his throat, even if it made him wince. “Yeah,” he breathed. “You…”

“I heard the commotion!” Iris’s shout came from the stairs, a few bangs ringing through the entrance hall as if someone were trailing behind. “Barry, is everything alright?”

“ _I -_ ” Barry openly flinched, lightning flaring brighter as a low guttural groan left him.

“We’ll let her know you’re fine,” Caitlin whispered, her painted lips curving into a strained smile. Cisco looked ready to protest, unabashed concern written across his golden face, but the clock nudged his shoulder hard, eliciting a sigh from him before he hopped after Caitlin.

“ _Sorry_.”

Leonard turned back to Barry and his gut twisted at the way energy was flickering off the other like a dying torch. That didn’t bode well.

“You saved my life. Ought to be... thanking you.”

Barry shook his head. “ _Wouldn’t have run if it weren’t for me._ ”

Leonard hissed as Barry moved too close, the next wave of heat a bit uncomfortable for his tastes. “Not because of you.”

“ _Don’t lie to make me feel better,_ ” Barry snapped. “ _None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t - if I’d -_ ”

“Mentioned your curse is not quite like mine?” Leonard gave him a rueful smile, giving Barry a much more thorough once-over. Barry shuddered again, not nearly as violent as he had crossing the threshold of the estate but enough for Leonard’s smile to falter. “Funny. Didn’t think you _wanted_ to be…”

Leonard’s voice trailed off as Barry ducked his head for a moment, a sigh filling the room as the lightning wavered enough that he looked transparent, like a second skin Barry couldn’t maintain -

Oh. _Oh._

That made... a lot more sense.

“You’re not human. Are you?”

He couldn’t read emotion off of that electric face, but he swore yellow eyes drooped when Barry looked back up at him and the continued tremble of Barry’s hands was enough confirmation.

“ _Never have been_.” It was a resigned whisper, almost embarrassed.

“You could have told me.”

“ _I was…_ ” Barry sighed again. “ _I was scared. Would you feel sympathy for any monster cursed to a human body?_ ”

Leonard frowned. “You’re not a monster, Barry.” The other scoffed, though not unkindly, and he tested how much he could flex his fingers before reaching out again, pressing his fingertips to what he guessed was Barry’s waist. It was strange how solid Barry seemed, how human his hands felt despite the unusual warmth against his cheeks. Or maybe that was a side effect of the curse.

He couldn’t believe how much more it all made sense now. The fact that he’d rarely seen Barry in this form, the cagey nature with which Barry spoke about the curse, how much Barry had to eat after regaining his human body.

How often had Barry tried to keep himself... well, _himself_ in an effort to scare off anyone who might fall prey to his curse? Tried to control what was left of him despite how much it clearly pained him?

“ _You saw what I do to others. To your sister and your friend. At least human I… I don’t scare people. I can’t hurt them._ ”

“Not human, yes, but a monster?” Leonard clucked his tongue and pressed his hand more firmly against Barry, who stiffened in surprise. “No. I’ve met monsters...far worse. What are you? Really.”

Barry was silent for a long moment, just staring. Leonard became acutely aware of the warmth spreading through his body, how the crackling sparks off Barry’s body tickled his side and face but never burned him. The not-quite-flesh beneath his fingers felt feverish, something fluttering somewhere within the pulsing energy.

“ _A spirit_ ,” Barry murmured. The puff of warm air over his face nearly made him shudder. “ _I am a storm spirit._ ”

“Doesn’t sound like a monster to me.” Leonard’s voice came out quieter than he intended.

Barry’s hands slid off his face and Leonard spared a strange moment to panic, brief as it was, wondering if he’d been too blunt, too sincere. But Barry’s hands were flitting across his legs as he leaned back, then up his arms, checking his skin for any larger patches of ice and frost. The spirit’s head bowed and another flicker swept over his body, heat dwindling.

“You can’t control it.”

Barry snorted. “ _That obvious?_ ”

“How long do you have?”

The lightning flared, but only for a second, so quick he would have missed it had he not been watching for it. “ _First snowfall._ ”

The resignation in his voice was audible, even through the reverberation. Leonard’s chest started to burn for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint.

“This blizzard doesn’t affect you?”

“ _Prevents me from thinking of leaving. And my friends._ ” Barry glanced up. “ _It’s also a reminder_.”

“Fucked up reminder.”

That startled a laugh out of Barry, even if it sounded pained. “ _Never said it wasn’t_.”

“What witch did you anger?” Leonard asked. He couldn’t help but be a little impressed, though no less angry, at how dedicated the caster of this curse was to make Barry suffer. Lewis would’ve loved to take notes from this asshole.

Barry’s hands stilled on Leonard’s arms and that was the only warning he received before the other shuddered _hard_ and cried out, a bitten-off wail that made the hairs on his arms stand on end as the cold of the room greeted them both in a rush. Within moments, Barry was flesh and blood once more, grimacing as he slumped forward, forehead almost knocking against Leonard’s.

He suddenly became very aware of everywhere Barry’s skin grazed his.

Hazel eyes blinked at him, dazed and tired. “I…” Barry’s voice sounded so small and hoarse, like he’d been screaming for too long. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. You seemed rather... preoccupied.” Leonard smirked and looked pointedly at Barry’s tight grip on his arms.

“Wha - ?” Barry’s eyes shot wide open and he would have toppled off the couch onto his back had Leonard not steadied him, though not as quickly as he would’ve liked. Damn melting limbs. “Oh! I - _Oh_.” Those cheeks flushed a lovely scarlet shade. “I should... I wasn’t - I _really_ should - ”

“Barry!” Their heads swung toward the entrance hall where a white feather duster was swooping in to land a few feet away. “Are you and Leonard - ”

Barry buried his face in his hands as Iris froze, looking between the two of them. Leonard could feel his own face heating up. The sly smile that spread across her face was slightly unsettling.

“Oh.”

Barry let out a whine that was so petulant it was somehow adorable. “ _Iris._ ”

“I can see you’re rather busy.”

“This isn’t - ”

“But good for you,” she said, smile widening as she hopped backward. Leonard swore  he heard some snickering around the corner. “Really. About time.”

“Iris _,_ I _swear_ \- ”

“Glad to see you’re resolving your differences and feeling better and really... talking things through.”

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” Leonard said.

“Call when you’re done! We still have dinner to eat, after all.” Iris was fluttering around the corner and out of sight before either of them could protest, telltale clanking and suppressed laughter following her out.

“I hate them,” Barry grumbled. He sounded far too fond to be sincere.

“I can see that.” Leonard hesitated before tapping Barry’s waist. “Well. I suppose we ought to eat. Freezing to death works up an appetite.”

Barry glared at him and pushed himself to his feet. Leonard missed the warmth immediately. “That’s not funny.”

“At least you’ll have someone to match your _enthusiasm_ for dinner.”

“I mean it.” Barry’s voice sobered with his gaze. “Don’t… Please don’t joke about that. If you’d died…”

Leonard’s first impulse was to stand and run - mostly from the conversation, not out the door like he had minutes prior. He didn’t do feelings, sincerity. It was blatant that Barry was hurting, however, and he’d seen and heard the fear in the other’s voice, how desperately he’d tried to save Leonard.

He didn’t have to. Leonard was the one who enforced this deal in the first place, before running when he found he had no other option.

Part of him still wanted to run.

 _You’re only delaying fate_ , a voice that sounded like his father’s snarled in the back of his mind. _Why wait?_

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said instead, his lips twitching with the urge to smile in the face of Barry’s tentative one. “Made a promise. Besides, knowing Lisa, she’ll try and get in contact somehow with a list of ideas for a cure.”

“I hope not. She wouldn’t last long before transforming.”

“I said ‘try’,” Leonard pointed out, getting to his feet. He wobbled unsteadily and Barry grabbed his shoulders before he could even think of asking for something to hold onto. “The others wouldn’t let her run off. Mick knows better too, wouldn’t risk letting her get trapped here.”

“The others?” Barry asked curiously.

Leonard shifted his weight, testing how well he could stand on his own and nodded to Barry, whose hands retreated without a word. He could hear the clatter of plates and utensils, someone’s laughter ringing loud and delighted through the hall.

He smirked at Barry and gestured in the direction of the waiting clamor, blue veins standing stark against his skin with the movement. “The Rogues. As Lisa calls them, anyway. I’ll tell you about it at dinner.”

Barry shook his head, but Leonard didn’t miss the careful way his eyes traced his face, like he couldn’t be certain Leonard wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. Something about the attentiveness and suddenly soft gaze sent a flare of heat through his stomach.

“I look forward to it.”

 

***

 

Wally was the first to be lured to the estate.

Barry had been alone for over two months, howling and snarling at the confining premises of the estate and the tauntingly beautiful outside world. He’d considered it cruel initially, to be left alone in these empty corridors with only what energy he could muster to maintain his true form to light his way and the occasional candle. A coward’s move, he’d decided, to throw away the key and lock him indoors in a malleable human form before bolting.

Then Wally arrived with the first snow storm raging around the premises and his determination to bring his sister, Cisco, and Caitlin to visit no matter how Barry tried to dissuade them became his downfall. He sprouted a handle within three weekly visits, no more than a few hours each, and only then did Barry understand the extent of the consequences he’d been dealt.

Iris, her skin already ivory and feathers falling every time she moved her arms, refused to leave, citing that she couldn’t abandon her brother and best friend to a curse like this.

Barry wondered if Joe West ever got the letter his children left him, if he understood just what they were leaving behind when they claimed that _a trip across the kingdom would do Wally’s health good, Father, but we do not wish to be a burden._

Iris mentioned once that she thought about him and Eddie every day. She said the same thing when Wally become fully immobile and mute.

(She cried into his shoulder once, still in the process of shrinking, feathers long since replacing her formerly thick, dark hair, whispering shamefully that she was grateful Eddie must think she abandoned him, that he could fall in love again unhindered. When Barry attempted to persuade her to leave, she just shook her head, swearing that to leave him and Wally would haunt her worse than anything in the world.

“I can’t do nothing,” she sobbed, and for the first time, Barry wanted nothing more than to _be_ human so he could hug her like this always, so he could comfort everyone who chose to remain.)

Caitlin was more reticent, bringing in medical tomes and books on witchcraft, every kind of magic spell that had ever been recorded, but remaining no more than an hour each time. Caitlin had a fiance as well, one she was reluctant to leave, and had no skill with magical practices. What good would her help be, Barry heard her tell Iris sadly one evening, when Barry’s condition only sapped their energy and willpower to fight?

She coughed up gears within a week of that conversation and they couldn’t find a way to hide the wood of her skin no matter how they tried.

Cisco accepted the challenge head-on as Iris had, claiming that it gave him a chance to test his knowledge and pay Barry back for ending that drought months prior. He joked about becoming the “golden boy” of the family for the first time when the first flecks of gold spattered his arms, and if his smile was unusually tight, Barry said nothing.

He knew Cisco’s family barely noticed when the man returned to town, didn’t acknowledge his accomplishments over his own brother’s. Still, he wished Cisco had left a letter like Iris and Wally had, like Caitlin had been planning to if the worst came to pass. Cisco was the one who despised their prison most, if not more than Iris and Barry, no matter how optimistic he tried to be.

A year passed.

Barry kept waiting for the first signs of winter, staring past the perimeter of the estate for snowfall, but none came. The town bore no snow or frost that year. Barely even a brisk breeze in autumn. Iris tried to tell him it was a good sign, but Barry couldn’t help but feel guiltier, subjecting them to a longer sentence than planned.

He saw the lightning less than a month later and knew the truth, the smirk that glittered like garnet amongst fiery sparks beyond the snow storm as if to say _My bad_.

They were being _toyed with_. Like children. Like puppets on a string, tangling each other up in their worrying.

Barry gave up on hope, gave up on looking through tomes and pretending they were merely on a sort of vacation. He gave in to the fury that guided his feet once, snapping and confronting his friends for their false optimism, and took to scaring off wayward travelers when they stumbled inside. Transformations came faster for each visitor anyway, for everyone who remained inside the estate too long, and there was no point in deluding himself when he could rescue these travelers from imprisonment.

Besides, no one cared to stay. All they saw was what remained of a monster.

Then autumn came again and Leonard Snart was carried through his doors.


	4. Chapter 4

They didn’t quite fall back into the same rapport that they’d found before. Not that it had been an easy rapport, with all the secrets and dancing around the subject of curses, but the next few meals together were... a little awkward. 

Then Barry walked into the library, hoping to get away from the others for a while to clear his head, and found Leonard already there, sitting at the same table they usually gravitated towards with a couple of books spread across the surface. Leonard tilted his head as if to say _Well?_

“How long have you been in here?” Barry asked, a slight tease poking through.

“Not long.” Leonard’s fingers tapped on the table and if Barry didn’t know any better, he would have guessed the man was nervous. “I’ve been thinking.”

Barry’s gut clenched. “Thinking? About what?”

“Our little... predicament.” Leonard’s tapping paused for a moment as Barry drew nearer, hands fluttering over the back of the chair beside Leonard. “Since we both have limited time left, figured we could work on a solution.”

“As in, two heads being better than one?”

Leonard smirked. “Something like that.”

Barry took the seat finally, keeping his eyes on Leonard as the other watched him in turn. Not warily, as if he were afraid of Barry and ready to bolt, but with a hint of curiosity.

(A cynical part of Barry wondered if Leonard was only comfortable around him because he looked more human than intangible creature. But then he remembered the way Leonard hadn’t shied away from him, right from the start with staring him down to Barry practically straddling him to warm him up, and he couldn’t help but feel a little comforted.)

“Do you know if there is a way to break your spell?” Barry kept his tone light as he could, not pressuring. “Your sister mentioned looking for one, didn’t she?”

Leonard nodded, his smirk fading. “None that we know of yet. Haven’t seen a spell like it. Your heat… It’s the only thing that’s kept it at bay so far.”

“Alright.” Barry nodded in turn, thinking hard. “Well. I’m sure there’s a way. I’ll do my best to help you. Really help you, if that’s what you want.”

“Not just cuddling?” Leonard laughed at the way Barry ducked his head to hide his flustered face.

“You’re just as bad as Iris and Cisco.”

“I believe you told me I ‘fit right in’,” Leonard drawled.

“You really do,” Barry agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked back up. There was something in the way Leonard watched him that made him nervous, in a weird, good way. “But yes. I meant what I said. I want to help you, Leonard. You shouldn’t have to suffer like this.”

“Neither should you.” Barry swallowed a lump in his throat. He tried to look away again but Leonard reached out before he could, tilting his chin up with a finger to maintain eye contact. “And I mean that too.”

“I just don’t want to trap my friends like this,” Barry said. His voice cracked, but thankfully Leonard said nothing. “I… They shouldn’t have to pay for my mistakes.”

“You shouldn’t have to pay either. You’re clearly in pain.”

“Only when I change - ”

“But you shouldn’t have to be.” Leonard dropped his hand and his hand knocked against Barry’s on the table. “I don’t know how you came to be like this, but it’s clear you were all wronged. You want to help? Fine. But only if I help you too.”

Barry sniffed and swiped at his eyes, letting out a wet chuckle. “You don’t have to. I’ve been like this for a long time, years now.”

“You shouldn’t have to be like this. I should have guessed something was wrong.”

“That’s not your fault,” Barry told him. “I kept it secret for a reason.”

“Human or not, that doesn’t mean we can’t find a way to break your curse too,” Leonard said quietly.

A wave of guilt swept through him and Barry took another moment to wipe his eyes. His hand brushed Leonard’s again, and he hesitated before placing his over the other man’s. Barry waited, but Leonard didn’t pull away and he considered it a win.

“The one who cursed me,” he saw Leonard straighten, brow furrowing, “he… He didn’t tell me much about the curse itself. I didn’t know what would happen to the others until it was too late.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“He did tell me how to break it.” Barry’s voice came out a near-whisper.

Leonard was silent for a minute, which only made Barry fidget. Thinking about before the curse, about what led up to his punishment, was something he tried not to do often these days. It made him angry, furious beyond belief at the memory of that sneer inches from his face, the first transformation into his human body and the pain that came with it. If Leonard had thought Barry was in pain the other day… well, that had been nothing compared to the agony of his first transformation.

(Barry still woke up in a cold sweat some nights, utter terror clutching his insides as he screamed for release from the invisible chains of his curse. He sometimes felt Iris’s feathers tickle the back of his neck in the aftermath, heard whispers outside the door from those whose wood and edges were too sharp to enter and bring him some semblance of comfort.)

But thinking about that hiss in his ear throughout the pain, the cold laughter, was the worst part of it all.

_You love these humans so much. Such a shame none will ever love you for who you are. What you are._

_You will never be happy_.

“Is it something I can help with?” Leonard asked finally.

Barry shook his head sadly. “If I tell you... it might influence the curse. I don’t know. It’s not some spell or herbal concoction, it’s... something personal.”

“Is that the reason you can’t break it yet?”

Barry grimaced. “Yes.” And because no human had stuck around long enough to get to know him.

He’d thought of Iris initially, but their bond wasn’t quite what was intended to break the curse, they’d learned. A romance with Iris had occurred to him before, of course, but she was engaged and the more they talked about the idea they more it became clear that neither of them loved each other that way.

Part of him was a little scared to mention it to Leonard. Not only because of what he’d said, but because he was scared of influencing the curse or ruining what they had going so far. Looking at Leonard’s face, at how open he was trying to be for Barry to come to him for help, the sheer wave of understanding rolling off of the other man…

He didn’t want to scare Leonard away from the idea of something between them, especially when it had certainly been hinted at by his friends and Barry was sure there was _some_ flicker of interest, no matter how small.

“Alright.” Leonard shifted his fingers, not quite intertwining their fingers but rubbing circles against his twitching, nervous digits. Barry couldn’t help but smile as Leonard looked to him for an assurance that this was fine. “As long as you tell me if you need help. Or I’ll weasel it out of Cisco.”

Barry huffed out a laugh. “That’s just mean.”

“We both know Iris wouldn’t budge,” Leonard reasoned, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “And I have a feeling Caitlin and Harry and the others wouldn’t mind spilling the beans.”

“Cruel and unfair, but well played.”

“We have a deal, then?” A sense of deja vu hit him, reminiscent of their first encounter, and Barry let his smile soften as Leonard tapped Barry’s knuckles.

“Deal.”

 

***

 

“He’s going to see you,” Caitlin told Cisco, suppressing a laugh at how eagerly he jumped in place by the library doors. She knew the other was excited, and it was certainly contagious, but it was entertaining to watch him sneak around like a child snooping in on his parents. 

“Do you see them?” Cisco glanced back at her with a broad smile. “They’re holding hands! They’re whispering!”

“They’re talking, yes, I see.” She could see Barry blush between the doors, watched how Leonard smirked as _he_ watched Barry. It was nice to see Barry happy, though, finally loosening up.

“It’s happening!”

“Talking doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s big for _him_! Look at that smile.”

“I thought we said no spying,” Iris teased as she floated over. Caitlin noticed her feathers seemed a little stiff, not as pliant and light as they should’ve been. “Cisco, I thought you were helping Harry upstairs?”

Cisco scoffed and waved an arm. “Harry can handle himself just fine. He doesn’t need me to organize anything when all he’ll do is complain about my help. Besides, look at this progress! Look at them!”

Iris poked her head into the library and the fond smile that spread across her face was enough for Caitlin to begin to smile too. Iris shook her head as she turned back, but she looked undeniably pleased. “Leave them be.”

“But Iris - !”

“Shoo,” Iris said, a bit more firm despite her smile. “Come on, let’s leave them to their own devices.”

Cisco grumbled under his breath but he let Iris shoo him away, hopping down the corridor. “You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?”

Iris shook her head once more, and as she cast a glance back at Caitlin, she saw the hope bubbling forth in her eyes, the sheer relief for Barry.

For them all.

Caitlin looked toward the pair in the library one last time and her smile grew as she saw Leonard leaning forward to tease Barry about something. She allowed herself a long moment of watching them, cataloguing this scene in her memory, every last detail, before she followed Iris and Cisco.

 

***

 

The book slammed into Lisa’s chest before she registered who it was shoving said book at her. Her first instinct was to throw it back, snap and snarl, but then she caught sight of Mick’s scowl and breathed out a sigh. She took the book and raised an eyebrow at Mick as he just stood in front of her.

“What is this?”

“Gonna wanna read it.”

Lisa frowned. “Why?”

It was strange to see Mick so hesitant. “Marked off the page for ya.”

Lisa saw that a swatch of cloth was shoved between a couple of pages, a faded red that looked like it had been torn from an old pair of trousers. She opened the book and her heart dropped when she saw the title of the page.

“Where did you find this?” she whispered.

“Stored it away. Haven’t seen the spellbook in years.”

“Mick…” Lisa shut her eyes, thinking of Lenny, trapped in that estate, in that storm, with that _thing_. “We have to tell him. We have to get back.”

There was that familiar scowl again. “You heard him. We can’t.” He pointed to her face, the flecks of gold that hadn’t faded and raised questions from everyone in their crew. “It’s only going to get worse.”

“He deserves to know. And if we can break it - ”

“He ain’t gonna like that.”

“He’s my _brother_ ,” Lisa shot back, her hands clenching on the book tight. She slammed it shut and tucked it under one arm. “I’m going. You can either come with me or stay out of my way.”

Mick stared at her for a few moments. She could see the gears working in his head, running through his options.

“Shawna can take charge,” he said slowly. “They’ll listen to her.”

Lisa nodded. “Yes. Yes, they’ll listen - ”

“But we leave if it gets worse,” Mick interrupted. “He’d kill us both if we wasted time and got ourselves cursed too.”

Lisa’s lips curled up and she held the book closer to her, the words _Weather-Based Curses_ hovering at the forefront of her mind.

_I’m coming for you, Lenny._

 

***

 

For the first time in ages, Barry didn’t catch himself watching the clock - figuratively, since Caitlin was the only one in the estate - and counting the seconds. He woke and ate with his friends and Leonard, spent the day either in the library or exploring with Leonard, and went to bed happy.

It’d been so long since he’d felt truly happy.

Leonard seemed more open, slowly becoming more comfortable around everyone and even sharing more with Barry when he asked about his life. It was hard to tell sometimes if he was smiling, but Barry got the feeling that he was, and he looked happier. Leonard admitted his limbs ached some days, especially the longer his stay was extended at the estate, but even as the curse took a particularly nasty hold, Leonard took initiative to let Barry warm him up.

Which... well, his friends had taken to squealing over it all and poking at his scarlet cheeks to tease him. But it wasn’t a big deal! It wasn’t.

He was just helping Leonard.

Even if it meant getting close. And smelling that sharp minty scent that clung to Leonard’s skin amidst the coppery tang of Barry’s lightning, and rolling his eyes when Leonard smirked at him in that overly perceptive way as Barry tried not to brush his skin more than necessary.

It was…

Maybe it was something. He hoped.

As urgent as their goal was, to break their curses and free themselves and the other occupants of the estate, Barry couldn’t help but feel as if things were finally falling into place for the first time. It was selfish, he knew, to want to stop time and just stay here as is - though he really would like to keep his true form because human bodies came with all sorts of aches and problems like mortality - but this prison was starting to feel like a pocket of time outside of the rest of the world, far away from their problems.

Barry wanted to learn more and explore with Leonard, not just within these walls but outside of the estate. It seemed like he had traveled all over even before his father died, running from the law and his problems. Barry had seen many places on his own, but he always found himself coming back to this central area, by the forests and small towns.

It felt more... homely.

“Did you really steal diamonds from a _princess_?” Barry couldn’t help but laugh at the smug look on Leonard’s face. It was hard to take his exaggerated tales seriously when he wore an expression that made him look like the cat that got the cream.

“More or less.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow and leaned over the table on his elbows. Barry heard Cisco mutter something about personal space from the doorway (it was ridiculous how the candelabra kept insisting on “checking in” on them - they all knew he was doing anything but).

“You can believe in curses and spirits - ”

“I _am_ a spirit,” Barry said, gesturing toward himself, and that earned him a larger smirk.

“But you can’t believe a simple tale of theft?”

“Where did you even find a princess in these parts?”

“Passing through town. She could stand to lose a few jewels in that gold-plated carriage of hers. Starling Kingdom isn’t exactly the most impoverished land out there.”

Barry pressed a hand to his mouth to hide his laugh but the amusement glittering in Leonard’s eyes said his own amusement was blatant. He wondered if it was bad to laugh about a robbery with a thief, but Barry never claimed to be morally perfect . It wasn’t as if had to worry about human laws or turning Leonard in (a thought he balked at internally the moment it hit him).

“What did you do with them?”

Leonard shrugged. “Lisa used a few to get herself something special. Used a couple for food. Saved the rest for a rainy day.”

“So they’re saved back at your place?”

“Kept them stored in a safe place, yes.”

Barry whistled. “You must have a lot of them, then. Not lying around, obviously, but - ”

“I know what you mean.” Leonard’s shoulders tensed for a second, so brief he might have missed it, and the man looked away. “Saved it for Lisa in case… Well, in case things went wrong.”

“Oh. With a job or…” The indifference was creeping back onto Leonard’s face, that mask he seemed to fall back on, and Barry frowned. “Your father. Is that it?”

Leonard shifted, as if he wanted to fidget but didn’t want Barry to call him out on it. He looked so tense lately, even though they both had been getting better at recognizing the signs - and when Barry needed to try and lend some warmth when the ice tried to, well, _frost over_ Leonard’s muscles.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to - ”

“It’s fine,” Leonard said curtly, though his expression started to soften rather than smooth over the way it did when he wanted to hide something. “Things were different then. Always had to have a back-up plan.”

“Would he have hurt you?” Barry asked, and he winced the moment the words left him. “Well, I mean, aside from the curse, I - ”

“He did.” Leonard said it so casually, this practiced shrug a sharp contrast to the one he gave a minute ago. Barry’s heart ached at the way he leaned back in the chair, attempting to close himself off once more.

“I knew…” Barry faltered and rethought his phrasing. “There was a spirit I knew once. He tried to comfort me, after my parents passed. Tried to tell me that it wasn’t my fault, give me guidance. This was before Iris, before I met her and her brother and Cisco and Caitlin.”

“She had a brother?”

He almost winced again. Fuck. He shouldn’t have mentioned Wally. “Yes. He… He was the first to become inanimate.”

Leonard’s eyes softened. Barry wondered if he was thinking of Lisa. “I’m sorry.”

Barry shook his head. “It’s… It’s not fine, but we’re… It’s going to be fine. He was the one who found me and led the others to me, how they found out about the curse. But Wally - her brother - was led there by that spirit, the one who I thought was my friend. Wally said he thought the other was someone who could help, that the spirit told him I was trapped and needed him to help somewhere in the forest. Led Wally right to me.”

“Did he not know about your curse?”

Barry’s expression screwed up into a foul scowl before he could stop himself, bitter bile rising in his throat as memories of that red-tinged sneer staring down at him as he writhed on the floor came flooding back. He tried to keep his tone emotionless, to wipe the scowl off his face, but he knew he didn’t succeed. “He’s the one who cursed me, Leonard.”

Leonard sat up straighter. “I thought you said it was a witch?”

Barry sighed. “He enlisted the help of a witch to do it, since we bear no magic of our own but… It was all him. He lured me here, saying he wanted to talk, had some good news about my parents’ killer.” It took a herculean effort not to snarl as he remembered how _foolish_ he’d been, so hopeful that his friend could help him.

“The curse trapped me there immediately, and when I tried to escape he beat me, made sure I couldn’t run off as I changed into…” Barry nodded toward his body. “You know. And he… The worst part was he just laughed when I tried to scream, ask him why he was doing this. He said I was weak for trusting humans, for caring for them when all they caused was trouble. After ‘all that he’d tried to do for me’, he said, after ‘guiding me onto my own path to vengeance’.”

“Guiding you?” Leonard’s voice was tight, low with anger. Barry couldn’t help but feel justified seeing the growing fury mirrored back at him, the anger he’d lived with for years now.

Still, his chest tightened thinking about the way he’d screamed, the sheer _agony_ as he grew bones and flesh and a human heart in the midst of such cruel patience. Barry had to turn away, gnawing on his lower lip.

“He killed my parents,” the words came out as a hiss. “He tried - He wanted me to be just like him. So angry at the world, and unfeeling toward humanity. Causing storms left and right. And I _was_ angry, for the longest time, just like him but… I kept coming back to Iris’s family, to the humans who seemed to care about me and I couldn’t - I couldn’t hold that anger in any longer.”

“Barry,” he looked up and realized with a start that Leonard had stood and was approaching him. “His cruelty is not your fault. It took… It took a long time for my sister and I to let that sink in, but his betrayal - ”

“I damned everyone I cared about!” Barry hated how broken his voice was, didn’t want to yell, but there was no trace of pity or irritation on Leonard’s features and somehow that hurt because how could he look at him so openly? How could he act as if Barry wasn’t at fault? “I trusted him for _years_ , Leonard, I told him everything about my visits to my friends. Everything! He had all the ammunition he needed, and every time he tried to get me to stay away from them, which I assumed was jealousy perhaps, I just snapped and - I made things so much worse. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t - ”

“Having friends isn’t a problem,” Leonard said bluntly, his brow furrowing. “He manipulated you, Barry, because he could. You said it yourself, you care about humanity, he clearly didn’t. He didn’t even have respect for his own kind when he went after your parents.” Leonard laid a hand on his shoulder, a hesitant gesture that made Barry want to duck his head. “The only mistake you made, it seems, was trying to scare everyone away. And blaming yourself for things you had no control over.”

Barry’s breath caught in his throat and he swallowed. Leonard looked so sincere, morose _for_ Barry and not because he was a victim or a perpetrator of everything that had happened.

“Blaming yourself for everything gets you nowhere,” Leonard assured him.

“How long…” Barry cleared his throat. “How long did it take you to learn that?”

Leonard’s smile was a thin line of despondency. “Still haven’t, I suppose.”

An echoing _bang_ came from beyond the doors of the library and the moment shattered as the two of them jolted, Leonard’s hand dropping as if it had never been there at all. Barry scrambled to his feet as faint voices rang out, sounding vaguely familiar.

“Were those - ?”

“The front doors,” Barry murmured, his stomach a sinking stone.

They both hurried out of the library, heading for the stairs. Cisco must have run off long before since he was nowhere in sight. Barry hoped he wasn’t downstairs to greet these new guests; people didn’t always take kindly to talking furniture and candelabras.

“Lenny?” Barry nearly stumbled as they reached the railing and that sinking stone plummeted for an _entirely_ different reason.

If he had thought Leonard was angry before, he looked _furious_ now. Leonard was already more than halfway down the stairs despite how clearly he was wincing with each step, legs tightening with the familiar rigidity of the curse.

And sure enough, Lisa and Mick were in the entrance hall, bundled in coats and spinning toward him with similar expressions of relief and worry, though Mick did a better job of hiding it.

Barry stayed upstairs, lingering on the first few steps. Neither had seen him before, not in this human body, and he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. They hadn’t...exactly had the best first impression of him.

“I thought I told you to _go_.”

Leonard’s sister surged forward, grabbing onto him as he nearly stumbled off the last step. Barry realized she had a book under one arm, covered in snow from the storm. “Lenny, thank goodness. We figured it out.”

“Lisa, you can’t be here,” Leonard snapped. “Your face - ”

“It’s fine, I’m going to be fine - ”

“You need to _go_ \- ”

“Honestly, you’re in worse shape than me and it’s been over a month or so, nearly _two_ , you jerk - ”

“We found a way to break it,” Mick said, raising his voice to be heard over their growing argument.

Leonard stilled and Barry found himself holding his breath. He couldn’t read what the emotion crossing Leonard’s face was, a mere flicker and a furrowing of his brow.

“You…”

“We gotta thaw you or something.” Mick crossed his arms over his chest. Barry hoped that coppery sheen wasn’t metal on his skin and just wetness from snow he’d brushed off. “Love or some shit.”

Barry couldn’t… It was hard to breathe suddenly.

“What?”

Lisa sighed. “Mick found a spell in this book,” and she waved it in his face, looking disgruntled as her brother snatched it away, none of them noticing how Barry stared above them, white-knuckled and finding it hard to suck in enough air. “The opposite of ice, of winter, comes from summer and heat which is why your... housemate, I suppose, should be helping but since you got it from a backstabbing, an act that comes - ”

“From the heart.” Leonard’s voice was so quiet he almost didn’t catch the words when he spoke.

Why couldn’t Barry breathe? It was as if someone was squeezing his chest in their fist, squeezing with all their might until he would break into a million pieces in their hands. He doubled over, grimacing as his hands shook and sparked.

 _Control_ , he tried to soothe himself, _you need control_.

“Exactly!” Lisa was gaining more energy, looking more and more eager. “So this spell is similar to the curse you have and the way to break it comes from a matter of the heart, and since you’re being frozen, the answer is - ”

At that moment, the doors blew open with another _bang_ and Lisa shoved Leonard back as the outside air began to permeate through the estate, and Barry was ready to race down the stairs, maybe try and change if it meant -

A burst of red lightning crackled into view and Barry couldn’t breathe for an entirely different reason as it sped to a halt in the middle of the entrance hall, smiling up at him in a way that he’d once called _warm_.

“ _I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Am I, Barry?_ ”

 

***

 

If Leonard hadn’t met Barry, hadn’t seen his true form, he might’ve felt more alarmed at the mere appearance of this spirit.

As it was, he didn’t need to guess for more than a few seconds who he was looking at, especially when he saw the ugly mixture of fear and rage on Barry’s face.

“What are you doing here?” Barry spat. He looked like he wanted to run downstairs and throttle the other - not that Leonard could blame him. But the way he was shaking spoke nothing of fear and looked more as if he were in physical pain.

Was he trying to take on his other form? Leonard’s blood ran cold, and not just from the shiver that sped up his spine. Those doors weren’t closing, even as Mick moved closer, uncaring but wary of this new spirit, and tried to push on them. That electric face, a fierce, dark red that made him immediately miss the bright yellow of Barry’s, just tilted as a sound like someone clucking their tongue echoed throughout the hall.

“ _Now, now. That’s just rude. Aren’t you going to introduce me?_ ”

“Who the hell are you?” Lisa hissed, ignoring the way Leonard nudged her in warning. “The both of you, actually, how - ”

The spirit chuckled, a sound that grated on his nerves as it rang louder and made Lisa flinch. He gave a mock-bow, gesturing with his arms, and Leonard noticed that his horns were longer and sharper than Barry’s, flaring like fireworks. “ _I once went by Eobard_. _It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much,_ ” those eyes, devil red and narrowed to slits, slid to Leonard and his insides churned, “ _about all of you_.”

“So you’re a spy as well as a manipulative murderer,” Leonard said flatly, trying not to let his unease show at the implications of that statement.

Eobard had the gall to laugh again. Leonard shifted as the spirit took a step closer, putting Lisa behind him despite her hushed protest. If Eobard were human, Leonard would have bet every coin he had that the man was smirking, thoroughly enjoying this.

“ _I have to admit, you were not what I expected. Of all the sniveling humans to wander inside, you got rather lucky._ ” Leonard couldn’t suppress a shiver as his legs attempted to seize up, toes starting to numb, and Eobard’s eyes widened a little in what had to be delight. “ _Or, however lucky an ice sculpture can get, I suppose._ ”

“Leave them alone!” Barry began moving down the stairs down, despite how he clung to the railing like a lifeline, confirming Leonard’s fear of his pained state. “You have no business here with them, and no reason to taunt me.”

“ _Barry, Barry, Barry._ ” Eobard tsked and Leonard wanted nothing more than to seize him by the throat for the condescending tone. “ _You can barely stand up straight. Don’t you know what time it is? I came to give you a chance to say goodbye._ ”

Barry froze and Leonard couldn’t help but do the same. Even if his freezing was slowly becoming more literal.

“I… What?”

Eobard shook his head and in the blink of an eye, Leonard was caught up in a whirlwind of red lightning, shouting echoing around him as he was thrown -

Face-first into the snow on the doorstep of the estate, the cold hitting him like a sledgehammer. Lisa screamed something and he hated how his arms trembled as he tried to push himself up, hands already covered in an icy sheen that was hardening within seconds.

“ _How pathetic_.” Years of listening to Lewis’s vitriol was the only thing keeping him from flinching at Eobard’s bored tone. A hand grabbed him by the back of his tunic and he made to break free but the lightning spirit just threw him onto his back instead. He landed hard, muscles throbbing as his limbs began to stop cooperating. “ _I’d hoped you’d put up more of a fight._ ”

“Leave him alone!” He could see Lisa and Mick, right at the doorway, the latter summoning balls of fire with a growl.

To his horror, the fire flickered, once, then twice, before extinguishing entirely. Mick looked confused but that quickly gave way to his own wide-eyed shock when he saw how his arms were _metal_ and Mick seemed to be shrinking ever-so-slowly.

_No, no, no._

“ _Don’t look so upset,_ ” Eobard yanked him up again, hefting Leonard off the ground so his toes only grazed the snow and they were eye-to-eye. Whereas Barry’s heat brought comfort and Barry was cautious of Leonard’s well-being in proximity to him, Eobard didn’t appear to care. Lightning licked off his skin and hissed against Leonard’s, granting only a split-second of pain and warmth. Not that that warmth would have been enough to combat the snowstorm raging around them. “ _It’s a shame, really, but it seems Barry needed the companionship. He’ll have to do with two more_.”

“Lisa,” Leonard snarled, his voice a little choked by the electric hand so close to his throat now, “you need to _go_.”

“Lenny,” a sharp cry interrupted whatever she wanted to say and he hated that he couldn’t turn and see what was wrong. “We can’t - There’s some kind of barrier, we can’t - ”

_No._

Leonard caught a glimpse over the spirit’s shoulder of the perimeter of the estate, of the forest beyond it, and his heart caught in his throat as he saw the gray clouds above, the trees bare of their leaves.

They couldn’t be - They couldn’t be out of -

“ _Like I was saying,_ ” Eobard said with a sigh, as if he were truly remorseful, “ _there’s no time left, I’m afraid._ ”

“Lenny!” His sister’s voice was already distorting, pained, as if she were yelling from a tunnel, and he couldn’t tell if it was the curse influencing his hearing or if something worse was happening to her.

“ _I do have to thank you for keeping him occupied, though._ ” Eobard chuckled, low for only Leonard to hear. “ _Barry was being rather... belligerent. Childish about this whole mess, really. I almost_ wanted _you to help him, if only to congratulate him on changing back. You really should see him when he lets loose - the storms he caused for years. Quite impressive._ ”

“You’re not getting your hands on him again,” Leonard hissed. His hands twitched as he tried to reach for Eobard, hoping the burn would get some feeling back into his body, but it was already getting harder to concentrate, his fingers turning blue from the frost.

“ _Oh? And you think you’re going to stop me? Flailing and turning to ice before my eyes?_ ”

Someone was calling his name, shouting some sort of command, but he couldn’t understand what it was. Lisa let out another cry and even Mick was grunting, trying to hold back one of his own.

He couldn’t let them die like this, couldn’t let the rest of the inanimate objects go still, couldn’t let Barry suffer because of this bastard -

“ _Truly pathetic. And to think, he might lo -_ ”

Leonard was on his back in a second, lightning blazing against his back and front as he was shoved away and guttural roars filled the air as twin trails of lightning, yellow and red, streaked past him into the house like they were racing. He could hear someone - _Cisco_ , he registered faintly - yelling Barry’s name in a panic and that seized Leonard’s heart like nothing else.

He used the brush of heat to force himself to his knees, not quite able to make it any further before he decided crawling might suit him best for now. Lisa was on her knees too, he could see, which seemed to be welding together as her skin became a vibrant gold, eyes transparent like glass. He couldn’t see Mick’s face but he was shaking, struggling to hold himself against whatever magical barrier seemed to be keeping them indoors. He realized Mick’s arms were also welding against him alongside his legs, thinning out like some sort of copper - no, _iron_ , he corrected himself - pole.

“Boss,” Mick’s voice was muffled, but the way he shook violently as he sank to his knees too spoke volumes. “You… We can’t…”

“I’m coming,” Leonard promised, biting back a shout as he used his frosting fingers to _pull_ himself toward the door. So close, so close. Only a couple feet, thankfully - Eobard must not have imagined Barry fighting back, seeing no use for any form of precaution.

“The storm…”

“I know.” Leonard gasped in pain, his fingers thickening as they became fully encased in ice. He forced himself to pull again, grappling for the edge, for a foot to grab onto, _anything_. “I have to… I’m coming.”

“It’s working faster!” He heard clanking and saw Cisco hopping toward the edge, the candle on his head extinguished. The other objects behind him, what must’ve been ten, twenty, likely more, came closer as well, much more slowly for some who seemed to be growing stiffer by the minute. “The curse is accelerating the transformations!”

The candelabra paused at the barrier and held out his arm, the flames wavering unsteadily before going out thanks to the wind. Lisa cried out, unable to stop herself from falling onto her side and Leonard felt sick at how she too was shrinking, her body turning slender as any semblance of her legs and arms began to blur before his eyes.

Panicked, Leonard shoved himself forward one last time and caught Cisco’s outstretched arm, not caring as he tried to dig his fingers into the metal the best he could. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth against a yell that built up in his throat. His side was poked and prodded incessantly and Leonard realized as he let his eyes open again that the other objects were trying to drag him in too.

Iris fluttered between him and Lisa as he flopped unceremoniously across the threshold after a long, agonizing minute, her eyes wide with worry. “We can’t shut the doors,” she said. “The wind is too strong. And we can’t carry you to the fireplace, that - ”

“Upstairs,” he bit out, and it took great effort not to slump against the floor as he crawled forward, using Caitlin’s head - albeit as gently as he could - as a way to push up as he tried to get onto his knees. “I can get… I have to get upstairs.”

“You won’t make it!” Cisco cried, looking uncharacteristically terrified. “Besides, Barry’s up there - ”

“He can stave it off,” Leonard said.

“No, Leonard - ”

He managed to get onto his knees, ignoring the protests around him as he glanced back at Lisa and Mick, still hunched over or on their sides and deaf to the world around them. Lisa’s eyes were wide as saucers, unseeing, growing as if to take up her whole face and Leonard’s heart clenched at the sight.

A mirror and a fire poker. How fitting.

Lightning leapt down the stairs, still entangled in one another, and several gasps filled the entrance hall as Barry and Eobard spun in circles around them all, knocking quite a few off of their unsteady feet. Leonard gasped as he was knocked flat on his back by a surge of red, skidding across the floor from the impact like he’d been tossed again, and someone yelled in pain.

“ _Fool!_ ” Eobard’s voice echoed throughout the hall, coming to a halt as red pinned yellow to the railing of the staircase. Eobard towered over Barry, whose form looked nearly transparent, lightning weakly sparking off of him. “ _You’d rather_ die _?_ ”

Barry roared and they were off again, light blurring together and Leonard shut his eyes, trying to stave off a headache from the noise and the pain.

Then Leonard was engulfed in blinding heat for a moment and found himself wobbling at the top of the stairs, hands darting for the railing, yellow eyes staring back at him sadly as they flickered nonstop.

“ _Stay here. Get warm._ ”

He welcomed the brief surge of warmth, but as he reached for Barry’s face, tried to get him to stand still, lightning crackled and the spirit was gone, leaving behind a howl as he charged after Eobard’s red trail, which was already down the corridor.

He couldn’t let Barry fight him alone. Barry could barely keep himself together, he wouldn’t last much longer.

Leonard dug his hand into his boot, the material not frozen over fully yet, and he almost fell over with the haze falling over him, but he found the hilt of his knife still there and sheathed.

 _For emergencies_ , Lewis had once sneered, shoving it at Leonard’s younger and smaller hands. _Never know when you need to fight your way out of a jam._

“Get Lisa and Mick away from the doors,” Leonard called down, clearing his throat twice to rid it of the block of ice that seemed to be trying to work its way up it.

“Leonard, wait - ”

He was stumbling down the corridor, hitting walls at a near-slam to catch his balance as he lumbered after the storm spirits.

 

***

 

Barry was on fire.

Every step felt like a thousand needles were piercing the soles of his feet, his legs screaming and threatening to buckle the whole way as his stomach boiled with this overwhelming sense of _wrongness_ that refused to leave him be. He’d been discomforted by his transformations before, even writhing in pain for that initial one, but never had Barry felt so physically ill, as if he were walking in someone else’s shoes and being punished for it.

But he couldn’t stop. There was no time, he’d been so _stupid_ and now there was no time and Barry couldn’t stop or Eobard would kill Leonard, end the man’s curse for him just to spite Barry because he couldn’t _stand_ being outsmarted.

It was sickening how long it had taken Barry to realize that last part.

Eobard was waiting for him as he blew through the doors, inclining his head as Barry came to a stop feet in front of him. It infuriated him to see how casual the other was, how blasé about the whole ordeal he was acting.

Barry realized they were in his room with a start, the bed made and drapes thrown back as if to mock the disarray he’d been living in.

“ _Shameful, isn’t it? How quickly you settled in?_ ” Eobard stepped closer and Barry stepped back on instinct, which only seemed to please Eobard. “ _I hardly recognized you as time went on._ ”

“ _I can’t believe you watched me. Have you no shame yourself for everything you’ve done? Are you not remorseful?_ ”

Eobard placed a hand on his chest. “ _I regret subjecting you to pain, but I can see you’ve learned nothing. Have I taught you nothing? Humanity is best controlled and left be. They always revert to their own devices, their own sins and wrongdoings. Curiosity gets you nowhere._ ”

“ _This ends now,_ ” Barry snarled. “ _You have no right to control me and my life - you’re killing countless humans who’ve done nothing wrong!_ ”

“ _Humans will always die, Barry. Don’t you see? Their lives mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, barely a blip in history._ ”

“ _They mean_ everything _!_ ” He had to suppress a gasp as his limbs protested the movement, speeding forward to get in Eobard’s face. “ _They don’t deserve to die when your quarrel is with me._ ”

Eobard seized him by the throat before he could move away, and Barry clawed at his hand as Eobard looked down at him, disappointment coming off him in waves. Barry’s lightning flickered ominously and desperation was the only thing keeping him from collapsing and losing control of his true form.

“ _I suppose it would be cruel to leave you alone to see what came of your actions. After all… You said it yourself: why should they die when you are the one I’m here for?_ ” Eobard’s lightning flared, like a rapid-fire series of lightning strikes across the earth. “ _Your parents would be grateful to see you, I’m sure, after all this time._ ”

Barry yelled with what was left of his breath, kicking out at Eobard and the two of them fell to the floor. Eobard’s grip was jostled enough for Barry to slip free, decking the spirit across the face as if it were flesh.

He didn’t have time to feel satisfied, knocked off his feet in seconds, lightning cracking loudly alongside the movement and Barry cried out in pain as the spirit held him down with a firm foot, heat searing through his back to an uncomfortable extreme. Eobard slammed the foot down again, and Barry shook with the effort not to change back into his human form.

“ _Struggling will do no good. The first snows of winter will fall very soon. You have no reason to fight._ ”

“ _I have every reason to fight!_ ”

Eobard dragged him up onto his feet, and Barry’s knees almost buckled, lightning beginning to diminish as the spirit sped to the window, shoving it open. The cold wind nipped at him, as if daring him to revert back to his cursed state.

“ _This is pathetic, Barry. How can you fight when this_ Leonard _doesn’t love you? You failed. It’s too late. He will die and with time, so will you._ ” Eobard raised his other hand as Barry fought to shove him away, gripping Barry’s chin hard to keep him still. “ _Did you expect any different? He’s a thief, a doomed man. Of course he’d latch onto you when he could._ ”

“ _Leonard isn’t like that,_ ” Barry growled.

“ _So naive. So trusting._ ”

“ _Stop!_ ”

Eobard chuckled and Barry’s head hit the wall with a crack. The lightning flickered and, in a surge of breath-taking pain, Barry returned to his human form. Dizziness made the room swim for a couple of moments but he kept pawing at the hands keeping him pinned, struggling with all his might. Eobard’s lightning burned his flesh like a brand.

“ _And there goes your time. Sad, isn’t it?_ ” Eobard threw him out the open window and Barry cried out as he hit the roof over one of the lower bedrooms of the estate, his limbs trembling from both the cold and the burn on his back. It was a miracle he hadn’t broken it, though the fall wasn’t more than a couple of feet.

Eobard appeared before him in a blaze of light, shaking his head. “ _To think, I hoped you and I could rule the skies together, hand-in-hand._ ”

Barry lifted his head, tasting bile as his stomach twisted like he’d eaten a dozen rotten eggs. “Go to hell,” he spat.

Eobard’s lightning faltered, enough so that he almost appeared human with the lack of sparks, red eyes alight with distaste. He softened to a thin sheen of garnet, a strange skin devoid of lightning that made him look like a red devil. “ _Truly disgraceful. Your parents would be so disappointed in you._ ”

“I think… they’d be rather proud.”

Eobard spun around but Leonard was already hitting the roof, his legs making an ungodly crackling noise that terrified Barry for his health, and clenching his teeth through the pain as he thrust something through Eobard’s stomach. _A knife_ , Barry realized as Eobard stumbled backward, the hilt sticking out and blazing with the heat that threatened to melt the metal.

Contrary to human myth, spirits weren’t invulnerable, nor gods. They could be harmed, and certainly by human blades. For all humanity’s flaws, they were intelligent, knowledgeable enough to attempt creating weapons that even creatures meant to be intangible could fear.

In Eobard’s moment of weakness, the knife was enough to burn. Perhaps not kill, but wound? Absolutely.

The storm spirit howled and only just managed to avoid Barry’s legs as he staggered backward on the roof. He gripped the knife and threw it aside, lightning flickering dimly as he tried to regain control.

Eobard glanced at Barry and his gaze hardened before he sped off, not nearly as quickly as he once had, likely to lick his wounds.

Or because he knew there was no point in fighting when he had won.

Leonard, whose skin was nearly white, tinged with blue at his chin and spreading up his arms rapidly, fell forward, catching himself on frozen hands before he lay still.

Barry couldn’t breathe. His insides were on fire, his lungs throbbed, and he couldn’t suck in enough air. He clawed his way toward Leonard, tears streaming down his cheeks, hands shaking the closer he got. The shingles bit into his palms but he didn’t dare check to see the damage.

It hurt to stop. It hurt to move. Even with Eobard gone - Barry exhaled harshly, shutting his eyes - the curse was determined to punish him.

“Leonard,” he sobbed, flinching as his fingers touched the icy sheen spreading rapidly over Leonard’s shin. He struggled to push himself onto his knees and pulled Leonard’s head into his lap. “You said you wouldn’t - you wouldn’t do it again.”

A breathy chuckle escaped Leonard. His blue eyes were so unfocused, his lips the same shade of blue as he shook uncontrollably, worse than the agony ripping its way through Barry. “I’m… I’m a liar. Didn’t I tell you?”

Barry cupped his face and brushed away a tear from Leonard’s cheek as it fell from Barry. “You damn fool,” he choked out. “I can’t… I can’t save you. You _know_ that.”

Leonard didn’t have the decency to pretend to look sorry. One of his hands, ice and frost forming a thick layer over each finger, moved toward him stiffly, squeezing Barry’s knee. “You’re human. Would’ve died.”

“So will you!” Barry glanced back at the open window, hoping for someone, anyone who could whisk him inside, drag them both away from the falling snow. How cruel that the blizzard let up only when his time was up. “We can make it. We can. I need… I’m going to lift you, we’ll go - ”

“Barry,” Leonard rasped and gave him another squeeze. Barry didn’t care that the cold was seeping through his trousers, Leonard’s fingers like sharpened points from the growing icicles. “Stop.”

“I can’t let you do this,” Barry insisted.

“You’ll freeze... out here.” Leonard’s smirk was knife-sharp. “We both knew… We both knew I wasn’t leaving.”

“We could’ve broken the spell. Lisa mentioned something - something about melting, I don’t - I could try - ”

Leonard’s head lolled and Barry caught him before he could slide off of his lap, hoisting him into an upright position. He took Leonard’s hand, ignoring the harsh pricks against his palm. He didn’t care if he was bleeding.

“More complicated,” Leonard murmured. Barry had to lean closer to hear him. “Needed... to thaw. Melt my heart.”

“Melt it?” Barry glanced down at his frosted chest, clothes turning to ice along with his limbs. “Maybe I have some strength, I could - ”

“Not that kind.”

Barry opened his mouth to protest but the gleam in Leonard’s eyes, momentarily focusing on Barry with an intensity that left him breathless for reasons that had nothing to do with either curse, made him falter. The sight made his chest tighten. “I don’t understand,” he whispered.

Leonard’s smirk softened into a small smile. His hand was going rigid in Barry’s grasp, fingers frozen over as the last of the frost spread up his cheeks.

Barry could see snowflakes beyond the perimeter of the estate, falling slowly and sadly as if they were just as heartbroken as he was. He thought of his friends inside, of Leonard’s sister and friend, all trapped because of him, and he felt a brief selfish surge of gratitude at not having to face them as he lost everything.

Cradling Leonard here, in his own confined, cold prison was not much better a fate.

The pain ceased, leaving him hollow and suitably numb as Leonard whispered back, “Love, Barry.”

And then he became still, a frozen statue in his arms as winter arrived, carved harshly from ice and snow, and Barry heaved a sob, burying his face against the icy crook of Leonard’s neck without care.

And not a soul heard his anguished cries.

 

***

 

_Please._

_Please, come back._

_Stay with me._

_I love you_.

 

***

 

His lungs burned like molten lead for all but a moment before there was nothing.

No sound. No light.

No feeling.

It was the numbness that felt strange. Strange, when the press of hands, of skin against him was there. Not warm, but there, a steady presence.

Wait.

No, there was something there, under his skin, crawling and itching to break free. Those hands were there and he could still feel _something_ so that had to mean -

 _Now,_ whispered a voice, light like a summer breeze.

Then his hand twitched and he opened his eyes and _breathed_.

 

***

 

Leonard’s eyes were bright blue when they flew open, his breath steaming in the scant space between Barry and him, and the gasp was enough for Barry to jerk away in shock.

“Leonard, what - _how_ \- ”

His body was so numb, so _cold_ , how was he alive? Leonard twisted and was momentarily awed by the fact that he could move at all.

Hadn’t he frozen solid?

“You’re breathing, you’re - ” Barry sucked in a ragged breath and Leonard glanced up at him. Tears were streaming down his face and dripping onto Leonard’s skin, his eyes blown wide with uncertainty and faint hope glistening back at him.

Wait… Skin.

Leonard lifted a hand (he would never admit it later, but it shook like a leaf) and stared at the layers of ice over his skin, hardening like solid rock. His fingers were sharpened to a point, like miniature daggers rather than fingernails.

“I’m - ” His voice came out as a croak. “I’m still - ”

“I know,” Barry said, shifting Leonard so he was propped more upright against him and Leonard shakily moved with him, unable to stop staring at himself. “I - I don’t know what’s happening, the curse is over. It’s broken. You froze, winter has arrived, I don’t understand.”

It was strange, how little he could feel. Not emotionally - Leonard was fine with feeling the fear, panic, and confusion that wouldn’t release its grip on his heart. But his sense of touch was mostly numbed, Barry’s warm form all that he could feel.

Barry.

“You love me,” Leonard murmured and he felt Barry go rigid against him without looking away from his hand even as he lowered it.

“I… What?” Barry sounded dazed still, as if he hadn’t heard Leonard right.

“I heard… I heard your voice. You said you loved me.”

Barry exhaled, a small puff of air that tickled Leonard’s frozen ear with its warmth. Leonard tucked himself closer to Barry without thinking, relishing in the heat radiating off of him, not nearly as strong as it had been in Barry’s spirit form.

“I do. Or, I’m falling in love with you. I don’t know, I… I just know I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”

Leonard licked his lips and met Barry’s eyes, hating the despair staring back at him. It was as if Barry thought he’d keel over in the next moment. “I… I think I know what you mean.”

“You do?” Barry’s voice lowered, and he gave Leonard’s face a quick scan with his eyes, disbelief written all over Barry’s features.

Leonard grazed Barry’s cheek with his finger, being overly cautious about giving Barry a cut with his sharp digits. The other shuddered under his hand, though it might have been from the cold.

“Barry… I think I love you too.”

No sooner did the words leave his lips did Barry gasp - both from wonder and pain, it seemed. Barry jolted backward, clutching his chest, which Leonard realized was _glowing_ like sunlight coming through a window on a clear morning. Leonard wanted to reach for him, but he gave the other space as he doubled over, skin melting away in a fiery blaze of gold light, eyes open and gazing at Leonard. Sparks began to dance across the vanishing skin and only then did an _oh_ pass through Leonard’s mind, hope igniting deep in his chest.

Barry imploded like a supernova, lightning sprawling across the roof, passing over Leonard and knocking him onto his behind but not hurting him. Yellow light blazed through the air, engulfing the estate with a resounding howl that sounded suspiciously like a particularly awful thunderstorm.

Leonard was blinded for several moments and pressed a hand over his eyes until the pulse around them appeared to die down. The snowstorm, and any other remnants of the curse, was gone. The falling snow began to reach the estate, but it seemed to be part of the natural world once more, not a trick of magic.

But, as relieved as he wanted to feel, Barry was gone, nowhere in sight. There wasn’t even a scorch mark upon the roof if he truly had imploded.

Panic began to overtake him, his heart seizing in his frosted chest. What had he done? What had happened, had he _killed_ Barry?

Then a familiar streak of lightning darted across his vision, through the skies, around the estate, and Leonard realized he could hear _laughter_ filling the air. He watched in awe as Barry raced across the earth and up onto the roof and -

Those hands were cradling his cheeks, golden eyes wide and unabashedly joyful. Barry’s heat swept over him but Leonard didn’t feel like he was melting (the thought of melting into a puddle was admittedly terrifying) in Barry’s presence. He could feel the warmth, for sure, but there was no tingling through his bones, no diminishing of the ice clinging to him.

“ _Leonard_ ,” Barry’s voice reverberated like a purr and Leonard inhaled sharply at the sound, at how _happy_ he sounded. “ _You - You broke the curse! You did it._ ”

“My sister,” Leonard said, “Mick and the others - ”

“ _They’re all changing back!_ ” Leonard heaved a sigh of relief, shoulders drooping with the release of tension. “ _You truly did it, you…_ ”

Barry straightened, the delight ebbing in his stance and what Leonard could make out of his face. “ _But you’re… How are you still like this?_ ”

Leonard glanced down at himself, the frost ever-present and stretching over his entire body. “Maybe… Maybe it explains why your curse didn’t affect me.”

“ _What do you mean?_ ”

“My curse… I don’t want to say ‘canceled out’ but, perhaps the effect of mine overpowered the will of yours. And once I froze - ”

“ _You were inanimate_ ,” Barry whispered. “ _Like everyone else was - oh! It affected you late despite -_ ”

“Despite the fact that it should’ve been too late.” Leonard couldn’t help but smirk, just a little. It was slowly starting to hit him - he wasn’t dead. _He was alive._

They were both alive.

“ _But your human body…_ ” Barry traced his cheekbones with his thumbs, tilting his head. “ _You can’t turn back._ ”

Leonard chuckled. “Maybe it’s for the best. Cheating death… Well, that can’t come without a price.”

“ _You’re taking this far too calmly for someone who almost_ died _._ ” The accusation in his tone gave Leonard pause, and he remembered the tears, the grief reflected back at him minutes ago.

Leonard touched Barry’s face, and they both relaxed at the gentle gesture, surprisingly solid in their new states of being. Leonard ran a hand over the horns at Barry’s temples and the other shuddered, making a low noise that made him want to rub them again.

“I’m not going anywhere, Barry,” he murmured. “Not now. Not any time soon.”

Barry laughed, and the sound came out like a hiss not unlike the sizzle of lightning on metal. The hands on Leonard’s face sent off sparks and Barry knocked their foreheads together, which only sent up more, tickling their faces.

“ _I know._ ”

They stood there for a few long moments more before voices rang out, calling their names with mixed uncertainty and joy, and Leonard swore he could see Barry smile through that golden lightning before he was carried down to earth once more, heart light but not numbed by his frozen state.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me on my DCTV Tumblr @areyouscarletcold. Comments are always appreciated, and have a great day!


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